Correspondence Course
by ellenscult
Summary: Mal can't get Jayne off his mind. Consequences ensue. Warning: explicit m/m slash! If this is distasteful to you, or it's illegal where you are, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This is Joss Whedon's sandbox. I'm just playing!

_Warning: this story includes scenes of graphic violence and contains slash. If you are offended by either of these, or if slash is illegal where you are, please don't read this. _

_Translations are at the end of the last chapter._

"_Kào_!" Mal stormed into the galley where the crew were just sitting down to dinner.

Simon looked up in alarm. "What is it? Not the Alliance?"

Mal ignored him and looked round the table, blue eyes storm-dark underneath a heavy scowl.

'"Which _húndàn_ went in my bunk?" He stared at each of them in turn.

"Captain, I'm sure it weren't any of us. We wouldn't go in your bunk!" Kaylee protested. "Right?"

Jayne turned away to grab the large dish of protein waiting on the counter, drawing Mal's attention.

"What about you, Jayne? Anything you wanna share?"

Jayne set his jaw and shrugged. "Why, you missin' somethin'?"

Mal's scowl deepened.

"Why'nt'cha ask Moonbrain there? She's always into places she shouldn't be goin'." Jayne nodded towards River, who wore a little smile as she sat at the table, kicking her legs.

Mal glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

"She accepts the responsibility," River said clearly. "There is a study to be completed. Top of the class. One cannot deny the opportunity for enlightenment."

Jayne grunted, looking at the table. "There y'are. Weren't no call to be throwin' accusations my way." He stuck a spoon into the dish of protein. "Get it while it's hot," he said, and sat down across the table from River.

Sighing, Mal sat down too. "Look, little bird, you can't just be goin' into my bunk and takin' things as don't belong to you. I'd be appreciatin' it if you could just put it back. After dinner."

River grinned at him. "By my estimation, such a study will entail approximately fifty-nine hours and eighteen minutes to complete."

Mal scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "This ain't a debate, little bird. You sayin' no?"

River nodded. "In a linear chronology such a task cannot be completed in the forty-eight minutes specified. Unless there is a breakdown of causality..." her voice trailed away as ideas spun through her head.

Simon put his hand on her arm. "River, we've had this talk. You can't take things without asking." He looked towards Mal, who was leaning back in his chair with an air of resignation. "What was it she took? I'll have a look in our rooms after dinner."

Mal shook his head. "Just a book, that's all. I'm guessin' it'll come back in a few days, if she says that's how long it'll take. But it'd better come back intact, you hear me?" He glared at River, who laughed.

"Intact! Whole. In one piece. But there are many pieces, scattered in the black. They will come back, even those which are forgotten outside of dreams." Leaning forward, she whispered, "A good conclusion draws together all the pieces." Then, ignoring the confusion around her, she helped herself to protein mash. "Sweet potato and butter! It is a favourite. Almost convincing!"

Jayne took a hunk of bread. "Yeah, well, if I'da known, I'da picked another flavour."

After dinner, Zoë got to grips with the washing up while Wash dried. River giggled in a corner with Kaylee, and Simon went off to search through the passenger dorms in the hope of finding Mal's book.

Jayne stood and stretched. "I need a spotter," he announced. "Gotta keep in shape."

Mal felt his mouth go dry. Looking round the room, he sighed. "Never thought I'd see the day I miss a shepherd," he muttered. "Jayne, you got half an hour. Then I gotta go do captainy things, _dŏng ma_?"

Jayne grinned. "Shiny!" He headed down to the cargo bay.

Zoë looked across as Mal pushed his chair back. She raised one eloquent eyebrow. Mal forced a smile which came out more like a grimace. "I don't come back in half an hour, check the airlock."

Zoë raised her other eyebrow before turning back to the washing up. "I see, sir." she said, scrubbing at a plate.

Mal could feel her disapproval following him out of the room and down the corridor. He could already tell it was going to be one of those long sleepless nights. "Dammit, River, why'd you have to go takin' my book?" he muttered as he dropped down the stairs into the cargo bay.

* * *

Jayne was already seated on the weights bench, facing away from the stairs. Mal paused as the merc pulled off his grubby t-shirt in one fluid movement.

_Lăotiān_, the man was _shuài_! Hastily, he started across the cargo bay as Jayne looked over his shoulder.

"Half an hour, huh?" the merc asked.

Mal nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Jayne shrugged and lay back on the bench. "Better get started, then."

Mal concentrated on the bar. Up, down, up, down. Not the arms which lifted it, muscles contracting and relaxing, gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. And certainly not the chest, kept clean-shaved... He swallowed hard and forced his eyes to go back to watching the weights. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on all the times he'd been shot. And stabbed. And tortured. And double-crossed. It just about kept his libido under control.

"Mal!"

Blinking, he looked down. Jayne was struggling to lift the weight back onto the bar.

"Oh! Sorry, Jayne," he said, quickly grabbing the bar and pulling it up.

"Yeah, well, if'n you're gonna spot me, I'd 'preciate it if you didn't try to kill me," Jayne grumbled, sitting up. "You can't concentrate on it, I'll just have to make do with these." He pulled out a set of small weights and started curling them up to his shoulder, first one arm and then the other.

Mal, a panicked look on his face, said, "Gotta go! Captainy things!" and fled.

Alone in the cargo bay, Jayne snickered.

* * *

On the bridge, Mal sat in the co-pilot's seat and stared out into the black. Quiet footsteps made their way towards him. He sighed.

"Zoë."

She held out a mug. "Brought you some tea, sir. Thought you might use it."

"No coffee?"

"Not after dinner, sir."

He took the mug. "I daresay I'll be up late, anyhow. You want to take the evenin' off, see to that husband of yours?"

Zoë hesitated, then took the pilot's chair. "Sir..."

"What's on your mind, Zoë?"

"It's Jayne."

Mal's shoulders tensed. He blew on the tea and took a sip before he dared to speak.

"Oh? What about Jayne?"

Zoë looked down the corridor, checking for lurkers. Keeping her voice low, she said. "Sir, I've been noticing how Jayne bothers you. Don't see it myself, but then I don't expect to."

Mal kept his expression neutral and his tone light. "So? Ain't botherin' anyone else. As long as word don't get round the crew, I don't see how it's an issue."

He looked round at his first mate.

"Word ain't gonna get round, is it?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

There was a long pause. Zoë stayed where she was. Finally, Mal turned to face her.

"You got more I should hear?" His expression was resigned.

Zoë nodded. "You should maybe talk it out. Would've helped me, when I got to thinkin' on Wash as more than an annoyance."

Mal raised his eyebrows, startled. "Really? You never said." He pursed his lips, then shook his head.

"I can't, Zo'. Not even with you. Ain't got no call to be so twisted up over this that I can't think straight, but I guess I am. And 'til I can get a hold of it - any of it - I haven't an idea of how I'd begin to talk this out." His shoulders slumped, and he leaned his head back against the head-rest.

"It's just all manner of wrong."

Zoë waited, but Mal didn't venture anything more. "Sir, what book was it? The one River took?"

Mal glanced at her. "War poems, that's all. Some of them go all the way back to Earth-That-Was." After a pause, he added casually, "My momma gave it me."

Zoë sucked in a breath sharply. Awkwardly, she said, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sure she'll take good care of it."

"Goodnight, Zoë." Mal's tone was final. He stared out into the black and listened to her footsteps retreating back down the corridor towards the galley, leaving him alone.

"Just you'n'me, girl," he said softly, and stroked the console. "What're we gonna do, huh?" After a moment, he answered himself. "Keep flyin', I guess. Just keep on flyin'."

* * *

Jayne made his way back to his bunk, stepping quietly so as not to disturb anyone. It was late, but he could see a low light in the cockpit. Someone still on watch, no doubt. He opened the hatch, thankful of Kaylee's maintenance that kept it from squealing, and slid down into his bunk. Breathing a sigh of relief, he reached under his t-shirt. Tucked into his waistband were a notebook, the pages covered in barely-legible scrawl, and a slim hardback book of poetry.

Sitting down on his bunk, Jayne kicked off his boots and opened the book. Handling it with surprising care, he flicked through the pages until he got to the right one, then he began to read, muttering the words under his breath.

_Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,__  
__We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,__  
__We shall have what to do after firing. But today,__  
__Today we have naming of parts. Japonica__  
__Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,__  
__And today we have naming of parts._

"What in the ruttin' hell's japonica?" Jayne scribbled in his notebook. "Gotta look that up. Maybe 'Nara'd know, but she ain't here. Dammit! I need a cortex... Have to see if the Doc's got a dictionary." Cursing, he put the book down on his bunk and rubbed his eyes.

"I ever meet Madam Wu, I'm gonna tell her what-for. Gettin' me reading this _gŏu cào de lèsè_!"

Jayne looked round at his girls - both the posters and the guns which hung on the walls - and sighed. "Fifty-nine hours and eighteen minutes, huh? Well I guess I'd better make it fifty-nine hours even. Japonica!" He shook his head in disgust, picked up the book, and went back to reading.

* * *

The next morning, breakfast started off quiet. Mal opted for his usual coffee, black, with one painkiller, before sitting down and watching the rest of his crew. Zoë and Wash shared private smiles, having made the most of their evening off. Kaylee read through a printout of something technical as she spooned rehydrated oatmeal into her mouth. Simon tried to get River to eat something, but she was more interested in a picture she was drawing. Something flowery. Or maybe a touch shrub-like. He couldn't tell from where he was sitting. And Jayne...

Without looking up, River said, "_Chaemoneles japonica_ is a flowering tree. The flowers are small and red and look stiff, like plastic. Or coral. It's all just a distraction."

Cautiously, Mal asked, "What, li'l bug? What's a distraction?"

She frowned, shading a branch in with pencil. "All that life. And the names. And the backwards and forwards. It's just a distraction because it's all about death." Her voice broke, and she whispered, "It's not coral, it's blood."

"River-" Simon tried taking the drawing, but River screwed it into a ball, throwing it at Jayne. She jumped to her feet.

"It's a distraction because the purpose isn't the living. It's the killing that one must accomplish, and that is something which may not be thought about."

Simon stood, and put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "It's all right, River. There's no killing here."

She stamped her foot and shrugged away from him. "I'm not the one needing a distraction!" She looked pointedly at Mal.

"Well if you're not needin' a distraction, I suggest you sit down, li'l bug, and eat your breakfast 'fore your brother here decides you do," Mal suggested mildly, putting down his mug. "Mayhap that poem ain't quite the best for you to be readin'. I'm sure the Doc has somethin' more suitable."

"That actually made some sense to you?" Wash asked, incredulous. He looked from the Captain to River and back again.

Mal nodded. "There's a poem in the book she took."

"You read poetry?" Wash sounded even more incredulous.

"Close your mouth, dear," Zoë said. "And eat your breakfast."

Wash did as he was told, and after a moment, River snatched her brother's bowl and danced backwards into the lounge area of the galley, where she curled up on the couch and ate his oatmeal. Simon sighed and fetched himself another bowl.

Mal cleared his throat. "Well, yeah. Sometimes. Man's gotta have somethin' to think on besides his next meal, don't he? It's a war poem, from a war on Earth-That-Was, goes by the title '_Naming of Parts_'."

Simon glared at Mal. "And you didn't think to mention this yesterday? I don't think ancient war poetry is appropriate reading matter for my sister!"

"You didn't ask," Mal replied, shrugging. "At least she ain't takin' readin' matter from Jayne's bunk. I'd imagine that's a sight more disturbin' than a book o' poems."

Jayne leered. "I got me all kinds of educatin' down in my bunk, Doc. It's just a shame no-one's takin' me up on it."

Wash spluttered. Hastily Zoë elbowed him in the ribs. Kaylee giggled as Simon's jaw dropped. Mal carefully kept his eyes away from the merc, thankful he wasn't prone to red cheeks.

Simon dropped his spoon into his bowl in disgust. "I think I just lost my appetite," he said. "I'll be in the infirmary if anyone needs me for a nausea suppressant." He pushed back his chair, stood up and stalked out of the galley, head held high.

Jayne grinned. "I'll take that as a no, then," he said, and put down his bowl.

Abruptly Mal stood up. "Wash, I need to know what time we're likely to reach Three Hills. Kaylee, as I recall, it's your turn to clear these pots away. Zoë, get a list of what's needed. Jayne, get the cargo ready for off-loadin'. Time to work, people!" As the galley started to empty, he crossed over to River and hunkered down in front of her.

"Now, li'l albatross, you be careful what you're readin' from my book. Never mind me tormentin' your brother: he's right on this one. A lot of what's in there ain't fit for you to be readin', an' I surely don't want you runnin' through the ship howlin' if'n you give yourself bad dreams. You want to think again on that opportunity for enlightenment?"

River looked at him over the rim of the bowl. "Fifty-five hours and twelve minutes remain. She dreams of other wars, not these." She stared at him with large, dark eyes.

Feeling as though he should understand more of what she said, Mal sighed and stood up. "All right, you can hang onto the book a while longer. Mind what I said, though!" He headed off to the cockpit.

Jayne picked up the piece of paper and smoothed it out on the table, then folded it carefully and put it into his back pocket. Leaving Kaylee to finish clearing away the mess, he looked over to where River was watching him, and nodded. "Loud an' clear, Moony. Loud an' clear!" He strolled out of the galley whistling.

Kaylee turned and watched him go, bemused. "Sometimes I swear there ain't no-one left aboard that's right in the head!"

* * *

Smiling, Mal hit the button to close the ramp. He thumbed the comms. "Wash, take us up!"

"I didn't hear any gunfire, sir. Are you sure we've concluded our business here?" the pilot's reply crackled back.

"Funny. Now take us up, if you want your share. If not, I'm sure Kaylee needs some more engine parts!"

The deck vibrated as Serenity took off, heading back into the black.

Jayne finished shifting the last box into the hideyhole under the stairs. "Just don't feel right without endin' by bein' patched up by the Doc," he admitted. "Makes me twitchy, no fight."

Mal grinned. "I ain't complainin' on a job gone smooth," he said. "Next stop, Greenleaf!" He crossed to the stairs. "'Sides, I got no quarrel with not addin' to that fine collection of scars you got."

Jayne looked up in surprise. "You're payin' attention to my scars, now? What else o' mine you lookin' at?"

Expecting to see a leer, Mal glanced over, keeping his expression neutral. Jayne's open curiosity disarmed his barbed reply. "I, uh, it's my business when any of my crew get injured," he managed.

"Well, yeah. But you're keepin' an eye on my scars. On me." He finished slotting the wall panel back into place and stood up. He was just on the other side of the handrail from Mal. Lowering his voice, Jayne continued. "What is it you're after, Mal? You even know?"

Mal stared at Jayne. "I..."

The merc waited a long moment, then shook his head. "Didn't think so. Ya figure it out, ya know where I am. Want a fight, I got it in me. Wanna space me, I'd haveta argue. If'n ya want somethin' else, you'd best get yer head straightened out."

Mal cleared his throat. "I have to head on up," he said, face burning red. "I, ah..."

"Yeah, yeah," Jayne grinned. "Captainy stuff. I got it." He waited until Mal had almost reached the catwalk before adding, "'Sides, ya c'n always ask. I might say yes." He laughed as Mal stumbled, then followed the disconcerted Captain up into the ship.

* * *

Kaylee wandered into the galley. "Simon, you seen Jayne?"

Simon looked up from the textbook he was reading. "Not since breakfast. Why, are you after some 'reading material'?"

Kaylee coloured. "What? No, Simon! I need a hand fixin' that new coil the Cap'n picked up."

"I'm sorry, Kaylee. I didn't mean to be snide. I can help if you'd like. I don't have anything pressing to do since the Captain was kind enough not to fill my infirmary this time." Simon stood, contrite, and held out his hand to Kaylee.

She sniffed. "Weren't no call to be sayin' that, Simon Tam. That were plain rude."

"I know, and I'm sorry, truly. Let me help you."

"All right," she conceded reluctantly. "But you be civil!"

"I just don't see how someone that... I'm shutting up. How can I help you?" Simon followed Kaylee back to the engine room.

River peered round the corner into the galley and shook her head. "Such a boob!" she said, then ran feather-light towards the cockpit.

* * *

Ensconced in his bunk, Jayne scribbled in his notebook. He jumped as his hatch opened, and a familiar face hung upside down. He stopped trying to hide the book under his blanket, and growled.

"Whatcha doin' there, Crazy Bug? You ain't never heard o' knockin'? A body could be doin' a manner o' things."

She beamed at him. "Your persistance is admired! There will be rewards! Also, the poem three pages further in is better. You're neglecting Boo!"

Jayne shook his head as she disappeared and his hatch closed. "She ain't so crazy, some days," he admitted to himself. "Best see to my girls, I guess." He hid his notebook and the book of poems under his thin mattress, then gathered up the weaponry which had come out with him on the day's job, swiped a jar of gun oil and a rag, and made his way one-handed up the ladder.

* * *

Mal stuck his head round the cockpit door. "How long to Greenleaf?" he asked.

Wash, hands busy stomping dinosaurs towards each other, growled. "Two days." Holding up the Stegasaurus, he added in a higher pitch, "Should be there around four pm, ship-time."

"What's that in dinosaur time?"

T-Rex regarded him with beady plastic eyes. "Still around four pm."

Mal sighed.

Wash grinned.

* * *

Mal went and hid out in his bunk. Of course, he didn't call it that. No, he just had some paperwork to catch up on, which took him to dinner. And after dinner - after Jayne had removed his arsenal from the table and taken it back to his bunk - Mal figured he could leave his crew hanging out doing whatever it was they did on an evening. He grabbed a mug of coffee and took the evening watch on the bridge again.

From there, he could hear Kaylee laughing as Simon teased her. River was humming some tune or other. Zoë's low tones carried up the corridor, then a minute later, Mal heard footsteps in the corridor.

"Hey there, Mal. You takin' my shift too?" Wash asked, joining him in the cockpit. He proffered a hip flask. When Mal held up his mug, Wash poured in a generous measure of Kaylee's finest brew, then sat himself down.

"You keep on giving us the night off, I'll start thinking Zoë's roped you into her nefarious plan."

Mal looked round at the pilot, who sprawled awkwardly in the co-pilot's seat. "What nefarious plan?" he asked. "Only nefarious plans on this ship better be mine."

"The one where she thinks I'd be a good father."

The mouthful of doctored coffee Mal had just taken somehow found its way down his nose. Spluttering, he managed not to spray it over the controls.

Coughing, he launched himself off his seat and slammed the cockpit door closed.

"What?"

Wash blinked up at Mal, who loomed over him. "I guess she musn't have mentioned it to you. Me, I think I'm far too young, be a terrible parent," he babbled.

Mal leaned back against the console. "You're tellin' me Zoë's wantin' babies, an' you're not?" he said, forcing a semblance of calm into his voice.

Wash pulled a sickly smile. "Not as such, no. I wouldn't be telling you that. Nope." He sipped a mouthful of Kaylee's hooch and winced.

Sighing, Mal picked up his mug. "You tried discussin' it?"

Wash shrugged. "A bit." Looking up at the Captain, he seemed just a little lost. "But she's so... She has her heart set on it, and I'd give her anything in the whole 'verse, you know that, Mal. And the thought of bringing a baby into all of this?" He waved a hand. "Scares the _gŏushĭ_ right out of me."

"Wash... This ain't really for me to say. I ain't lookin' to bring children into the 'verse, and, far 's I ken, ain't never done so. But to my mind, if ya wait too long, you'll break Zoë's heart. And then I'll haveta kill ya." He grinned.

"I ain't lookin' to lose my first mate, an' I ain't lookin' to lose a pilot. But I ain't gonna be the cause of Zoë's unhappiness by puttin' my big captainy foot down an' sayin' no. So you'n' Zo' need to set yourselves down an' get it talked through."

He downed the rest of his coffee, ignoring the burn that spread from his throat to his belly. "I'll send her on up."

"Thanks, Mal. At least there's no plot. Unless this is a cunning double-bluff..."

"Wash..." Mal opened the door and stepped out, leaving the pilot to take his proper seat. He stuck his head back round the door for one last jibe. "'Sides, I hear a man can get quite fond of 'em. An' if they're too much trouble, we c'n always sell 'em."

"Mal!" Wash looked up in shock as the Captain's laughter floated down the corridor towards the galley. "_Wŏ de mā_!"

* * *

Mal strolled into the galley, chuckling.

Zoë looked round from brushing River's hair. "Glad to see the 'verse isn't ending, sir."

"You implyin' I'm ain't always this sunny? My feelings may never recover." He dumped his mug in the sink, then turned round and leaned back against the worktop, ignoring River's giggle. "You might wanna check on your husband, though."

"You've been terrorizing him again, sir?" Zoë asked. "I'm not entirely sure I hold with that. Unless he deserves it."

"Oh, I didn't terrorize him more'n he deserved." Mal's smile was a little forced, nothing most people would have noticed. Zoë raised an eyebrow, laid down the brush, and left.

River smiled up at him, then held out the brush.

"What? No, _mèi mei_. Can't Kaylee finish that off?"

"She's showing Simon how things work well when they are cared for," River said, still holding out the brush.

With a hunted expression, Mal came around the table and took the brush. "All right, just this once. But you best not be makin' a habit of it, _dŏng ma_?"

River nodded happily. She waited until the Captain had finished teasing all the tangles out of her hair, then said, "He has tangles too, but not in his hair."

Mal handed her the brush. "Is that so? You got any particular 'he' in mind?"

River danced away from the table, her eyes sparkling.

_"I shall know him where he stands__  
__All alone,__  
__With the power in his hands__  
__not o'erthrown;__  
__I shall know him by his face,__  
__By his godlike front and grace;__  
__I shall hold him for a space__  
__All my own!"_

"Really," Mal said, skeptically. "You'd better not be holdin' anyone yet, li'l bird. You put that thought right out o' that pretty head o' yours, or I'll be warnin' your brother," he bluffed.

River laughed at him and darted away towards the passenger dorms, leaving Mal alone in the galley.

He contemplated the kettle for a minute, then shook his head and went back to hiding out in his bunk.

* * *

"This is more like it!" Jayne muttered, sprawled on his bunk. "'_What the Bullet Sang_'. Huh."

_O joy of creation,__  
__To be!__  
__O rapture, to fly__  
__And be free!__  
__Be the battle lost or won,__  
__Though its smoke shall hide the sun,__  
__I shall find my love - the one__  
__Born for me! _

"Well, ain't that interestin'," he mused. "It's like it ain't that there's a bullet with yer name on it, more like there's a person born ta be with that bullet.

'Course," he scratched his groin absent-mindedly, "I got my bullet." He reached under his pillow and pulled out a long, pointed sniper round. Turning it so that it caught the light, Jayne found where his name was scratched into it.

"Still there!" He grinned and kissed it, then stuffed it back under his pillow. He propped the book again, resting his hand on his chest, and kept on reading. "Moonbrain was right. This poem's a heck of a lot better than that other piece of _gŏushĭ_."

* * *

Breakfast started out quietly again. Mal had his usual coffee with a painkiller. Wash and Zoë quietly sat close together, but a line of tension between them that Mal hadn't even been aware of on a conscious level had eased, and a soft smile played about the corners of Zoë's mouth. River had stolen her brother's bowl again, but happy that she was eating, Simon merely stole hers in return. As he ate, he kept glancing across at Kaylee, who was her shiny self. Maybe a hint of pink on those cheeks, though. Huh. Mal wondered how much longer it would take for her to get through all of the Doctor's defenses. Couldn't be much longer, surely...

Jayne came in late. He yawned and stretched, his t-shirt rising to reveal a set of tanned abs. He scratched his belly, wandering over to the worktop to sniff at the food.

Before Mal could think better of it, his mouth opened and ran on. "Jayne, there some good reason why you're shamblin' in here now lookin' like you ain't slept worth a damn? Hot night with Vera, maybe?"

Jayne scraped the last of the oatmeal out of the pan and poured himself a mug of coffee. He stuck a spoon in his bowl, turned and grinned. "Why Mal, I never figured ya for the jealous type. Vera's hot all right, but she ain't too fussy, long's ya treat her right. I c'n drop her off at yer bunk if'n ya like. She likes ta be stroked. An' don't ferget ta wipe her down." He leered.

For a moment, everyone was speechless. Then Kaylee and River burst into giggles. Even Simon snorted.

Wash turned to his wife. "Honey, why don't you ever invite weapons into our bed?"

Zoë ignored him and watched Mal instead, with an eyebrow raised and a smile threatening to burst out.

Mal's grip tightened on his mug. He forced himself to lean back casually. "Why Jayne, that's a real nice offer. But I prefer 'em a little less metal. I don't much fancy gettin' gun oil on my sheets, neither." He ignored the sniggering from around the table. "Now if you're sickenin' for somethin', I recommend seein' the Doc afore ya bring down the rest o' the crew. If it's just that ya were up late attendin' to yer girls, well, I ain't got no sympathy, an' ya might wanna look to your punctuality."

Zoë coughed. Keeping a straight face, she asked, "Are you sure you won't reconsider, sir? It ain't like Jayne to make such a generous offer. Might never happen again."

Mal glared at his first mate. "Quite sure, thank you, Zoë. Vera's all manner o' shiny, but she ain't to my tastes."

"And those would be what, again?" Wash chimed in.

"Don't any o' you got anythin' better to do?" Mal glared at his crew, who weren't even trying to hide their laughter. "If y'all are done with eatin', go! Fix things, and if there ain't nothin' broke, go polish somethin'! Shoo!"

His insubordinate crew scattered, leaving him alone in the galley with the breakfast dishes, and Jayne.

Mal glared at him. "You too! Go shine your knives!"

Jayne popped another spoonful of goo into his mouth. Talking around it, he said, "I ain't done eatin' yet."

Cursing under his breath, Mal gathered up bowls and mugs and dumped them in the sink, avoiding Jayne who was still leaning against the worktop. As he ran water into the sink, Jayne sighed and put down his bowl.

"What'd I do this time?" When the Captain didn't answer, the merc growled. "Gorrammit, Mal, you ain't had nothin' but scowls fer me since I don't know when! Either yell at me proper-like, or git over it! I ain't a Reader!" He stormed out of the galley, leaving Mal alone at the sink.

* * *

Mal stomped around his ship. He wasn't looking for someone to yell at. Nope. Not after picking a fight neither. But Inara, who'd always given him a good argument, was gone and her shuttle was empty of everything save a trace of incense.

Kaylee was waist-deep in the hydraulics system in the cargo bay, being watched by a bemused Simon. Mal watched them from the cargo bay for a few minutes before deciding not to go ask why it was the Doctor wasn't polishing up the infirmary. His pacing just happened to take him past there too, and he flicked the lights on. Surfaces were spotless, everything in its place when he pulled open a couple of drawers.

His bad mood deepening, he flicked the lights off again and paced round the passenger dorms. Everything ship-shape there, even in what he could see of River's room through the half-open door. Briefly he debated going in and searching for his book, but if Simon hadn't been able to find it, he was pretty sure the li'l albatross would have hidden it in some corner even he didn't know of.

Back up, through the galley, where River was barefoot, balancing on tiptoe on a chair which was resting on only one leg, and on to the cockpit. His pilot and first mate were deep in conversation, one he figured he really didn't want to get involved in. Which left him only his own bunk. Except retreating to his bunk yet again made him feel he was turning into an outsider on his own damn ship, and there was no way he was going to be that. It was all Jayne's fault. The big, stupid man-ape gone wrong! Doc was right about that. Mal scowled. He should go have it out with that _húndàn_, tell him he wasn't going to stand for being made an outsider on his own ship. Tell him...

There was a crash from the galley.

Mal raced in, only to find River surrounded by broken crockery. She looked stricken, much younger than she was.

"_Āiyā_! _Tiān a_!"

"They wanted to come together, but edges are imperfect and they would not cooperate with each other..."

Mal kept hold of his temper with an effort. "Hush now, River. Let me come get you out o' that mess," he said roughly, picking a path through the shards. "Don't want ya cuttin' yerself."

"No!" River shrieked, tiptoeing backwards.

"Okay, okay!" Frustrated, Mal stopped. "Simon!" he bellowed. "Get on up here! Now!"

Running footsteps sounded from both directions, and then from behind him came Jayne. He strode over the mess and scooped up River with one arm. Plonking her down on the counter, he growled.

"Quit wreckin' the joint!" When she wriggled, he added, "I ain't kiddin', Moony. Ya might be able ta kill me with yer brain, but just fer one lousy minute stay still!" He lifted her feet one after the other just as Simon burst into the galley.

"Oh god, River, are you okay?" Simon hurried over. "What happened?"

"She's fine," Jayne said curtly. "Could do with washin' her feet every once in a while, though."

From behind him, Mal heard Wash say, "Was that just Jayne criticizing someone's hygiene?"

Zoë's answering, "Not now, husband," and the sound of footsteps retreating did nothing to improve his temper.

"Simon! Take your sister where she can't cause any more damage. Jayne, since you're on top of all this, ya c'n clean up that mess. _Mă shàng_!" Not waiting to see the results of his orders, Mal stomped out of the galley.

Simon and Jayne stared at each other as they heard his bunk hatch open then slam shut.

"What crawled up his butt an' died?" Jayne asked.

Simon shrugged. "I find it best not to enquire. Come on, River. Let's get you out of here."

"Let me," Jayne said, and moved in front of River. "Ready?"

When River nodded, he scooped her up and carried her to the doorway. "There ya go. Don't go breakin' more stuff, ya hear?"

"Thank you, Jayne," Simon said, coming to stand beside his sister. "I'll keep her busy in the cargo bay. At least there's nothing breakable there."

Jayne grunted, and went to fetch the brush.

* * *

Mal stayed out of the way until dinner. There was no sign of the mess; he had to acknowledge Jayne had done a good job of tidying up. Faces turned as he entered and sat at the head of the table, but they turned back to their conversations.

"All I'm sayin' is the Gurtsler's never gonna beat what Serenity's got," Kaylee argued. "It don't have the same torque, an' if ya push it, it gets real twitchy. Sure, maintenance is a bit easier, but that's 'cos there's so many o' them scrapped everywhere!"

Wash shrugged. "All right, I'm not going to complain about the engines which have repeatedly saved our worthless _pìgu_s. I'm just saying that other engines can have merit too."

"Simon, you got anything you need us to pick up tomorrow? Greenleaf has decent medical facilities. We should be able to find what you need." Zoë's calm tones lay across the engine banter, sticking to business.

"Ah, yes, I believe there are one or two items which we are running low on. I have a list down in the infirmary," Simon replied.

"Pass it to me after dinner, and I'll see what we can do."

The only ones not chattering were River and Jayne, but River was watching him, turning her attention from him to Mal, and her normally solemn face wore a secretive smile. Mal made an effort to cheer up.

"So, li'l bug, how long 'til I get my book back?" He took a piece of bread and mopped at what passed for gravy.

The chatter lulled, and over them River's clear voice spoke. "Forty-one hours and eleven minutes remain for study. Too many possible interruptions intersect and physiology must be accounted for."

"You wanna put that into somethin' a mite clearer?" Mal asked.

"A week, most probably," River clarified. "This may change," she warned.

"Ain't nothin' new there," Mal agreed.

The rest of the table, glad their captain was out of his black mood, resumed talking, and after dinner was finished and the galley cleaned up, Wash proposed a game of cards.

Jayne, usually happy for a chance to offload his chores, shook his head. "Nah, think I'll give it a miss." Catching Mal's expression of disbelief, he added, "Mercen'ry stuff ta do." Grinning, he headed for his bunk leaving the rest of the crew staring after him.

Simon shook his head. "I'm afraid to ask..."

"I thought 'mercenary stuff' usually involved shooting people. Or stabbing them. Occasionally blowing them up. Then lots of beer and women," Wash said. "But there's no-one on board to kill. Apart from us. And apart from Kaylee's finest, there's no beer, and I don't think he'd dare touch the women... Mal!" he turned to where the captain was putting the last of the plates into lockers.

"Yeah, Wash?"

"Jayne's not plotting mutiny, is he?" Wash asked anxiously.

"You tell me," Mal replied, deadpan. "He plottin' with you?"

"What? No!"

"Anyone?" Mal looked round his crew. "No? Then he ain't plottin'. For there ta be a plot, he'd need someone ta plot with. He ain't plottin' with any o' you, there ain't no plot. But I must admit, I'm a mite curious to know what else 'mercenary stuff' covers these days."

"There's always weapon maintenance," Simon chipped in. "After all, he does have rather a lot of guns to clean and knives to sharpen. That alone must take hours each day."

"Oh, and knife throwin'!" Kaylee added, excitedly. "Down in the cargo bay. He's real good with them throwin' knives o' his. Can hit right in the centre o' that board every time."

"Shiny," Mal said. "I'm not seein' as how there's much space for that in his bunk, though." He fought hard to keep from imagining what there was space for in his merc's bunk. With a cough, he changed the subject. "Anyhow, I thought y'all were keen ta end up with double garbage duties?"

A chorus of denials met his question, and soon everyone bar Zoë and River were sat back around the table throwing chores slips into the pot in the middle.

* * *

Up on the bridge, Zoë regarded River with a steady gaze. River, curled in the co-pilot's chair, stared out into the black.

"River, honey, you know that book means a lot to Mal, don't you?" she said gently.

Without turning her head, River replied. "Handed down from his mother. It is a link to his heritage. It helps him with the screaming."

Carefully, Zoë asked, "What screaming?"

River picked up the brontosaurus. "In his head. The fighting, it doesn't end. The words tell him he isn't alone. Brothers-in-arms. A mother. They help."

"If you know that, River, why did you take it?"

River shook her head. "Not her. She knows, though. There is a possibility of another link. A future."

"I don't follow you, honey. You sayin' you didn't take the book?" Zoë asked.

River sighed and marched the plastic dinosaur up the window.

"River?"

Finally she looked at Zoë. "The Captain may find a resolution. To many of his problems. There is nothing we can do. To interfere would destroy the chance, lead to disaster."

Shaking her head, Zoë said, "All right, River, if you say so." She sighed. "Gotta say, I wouldn't be upset if that man straightened a few things out. Some days, bein' on board's like livin' with a live grenade. Just waitin' for it all to blow up."

River nodded. "There's no way to put the pin back in."

"That there ain't."

* * *

On the approach to Greenleaf, Mal called the crew together. "Simon, I want you ta take yer sister an' keep out o' sight. There's entirely too much Alliance 'round here for my likin'. We got a good cargo, legit, an' we got proper clearance codes an' everythin', so I don't reckon as how we should have too many problems. Best to be careful, though. It ain't like nothin' ever went south before on a legit job, is it?" He grinned.

"Wash, put us down at the main docks. Zoë, you, me'n' Jayne'll take the shuttle over to Riverhead. It's about an hour off. Kaylee, Doc, anythin' you need we should have time to go pick up after the drop-off. I don't want to spend too long here, _dŏng ma_? I want us to be liftin' off no more'n four hours after we set down. No passengers on this run, okay? Keep the doors locked."

With nods all round, he grinned. "Shiny."

The drop-off went smoothly. Mal, Jayne and Zoë sat in silence most of the way back to Serenity, the cash in a bag in Mal's coat pocket. Shortly before they docked, Zoë spoke up. "I don't like it, sir."

Surprised, Mal glanced across at her. "What's not to like?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Two smooth jobs in a row, sir. My experience, that just means we're headin' for trouble."

From the back of the shuttle, Jayne chimed in. "Yeah, an' it's hard ta justify shootin' folks when they don't even attempt ta double-cross us."

"Why can't it just be our luck turnin'?" Mal asked defensively. "It could happen!"

Jayne snorted. "Yeah, an' my Ma could be Governor. Don't make it any more likely."

Mal shook his head. "I can't believe you're both complainin' 'bout gettin' paid! You tellin' me yer missin' gettin' shot at an' havin' ta run fer our lives? You surely are _fēngle_, the pair o' ya." He toggled the radio. "This is shuttle one to Serenity. Dockin' in ten."

Wash's voice crackled into life. "Serenity here. Come on in."

As he steered the shuttle in to dock, Mal said hopefully, "'Sides, it could still all go wrong."

As the three exited the shuttle, they were met by Kaylee and Wash.

"We get paid, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked, her face shining with relief that there were no obvious injuries on the returnees.

"Surely did, _mèi mei_." Mal pulled the bag from his pocket and jangled it. "It's all there. Which means that...?"

Kaylee squealed. "We c'n go shoppin'! Shiny!"

Mal smiled. "Anyone else need anythin' they c'n get in an hour?"

Zoë nodded. "I have the Doctor's list." She patted her vest pocket and moved past Mal to stand by her husband.

"Speaking of which, no new and interesting wounds to challenge the good Doctor with?" Wash asked, keeping a smile on his face. "No running for our lives? No being chased by the Alliance? Or Reavers?"

Zoë shook her head. "It's all good, husband. Shall we go shop?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Wash said contentedly.

"Jayne, I want you to go with Kaylee, give her a hand gettin' parts," Mal said.

"Do I gotta?"

Kaylee's face fell. "Ya don't wanna come look fer parts with me? There's a really great little yard just a half-mile down the docks, an' I hear they've a stabilizer I've been after for a year now!"

"Yes, Jayne, you gotta," Mal ordered. "Because I say so. An' if'n there's a bit o' time at the end o' fetchin' Kaylee's parts, ya c'n go grab whatever it is you're hankerin' after. Unless it's whorin' or fightin'. We're liftin' off in ninety minutes, an' I ain't takin' the time to bail ya out." He strode off towards the cockpit, leaving Jayne standing in the corridor fuming.

"_Hóuzi de pìgu_!" With a thunderous scowl, Jayne turned and stalked into the galley.

"Jayne...?" Kaylee asked, nervously. "Ya comin'?"

"Gimme just a gorram minute, Kaylee! I need ta drop a couple o' girls off if I'm gonna be trawlin' through a heap o' _gŏushĭ_!"

Jayne opened his bunk and dropped down the ladder. Quickly he set a sawn-off shotgun and a couple of pistols down on his bunk. Then from under his mattress he pulled out a couple of letters and stuffed them underneath his t-shirt, and a small pouch of cash, which went deep into a pocket. Hastily he climbed back up the ladder, only to find Mal at the top of it.

"_Dàxiàng bàozhàshì de lā dùzi_!" Mal exploded. "Jayne, why _tiān xiăodé_ are you still here? _Wŏ zài qiănshì yīdìng rědào shénme rén le ba_, because you are surely drivin' me to an early grave!"

Jayne opened his mouth to protest, but Mal furiously pointed down the corridor.

"Go!"

Jayne went.

Mal stamped up into the cockpit and threw himself into the pilot's seat. Still fuming, he accessed the cortex to look for another job.

"Here." A mug appeared at his elbow.

Mal jumped. "_Wŏ de mā_! Simon, I thought I told you ta keep outta sight with your sister! Why is everyone determined to ignore my orders today?"

Simon held the mug out to him. "River is safely out of the way. I figured I could maybe come and get a drink since the Alliance aren't actually beating down the doors. And I heard shouting. I thought that perhaps you might appreciate a hot drink too." He paused. Mal scowled. "If I'm wrong, I apologise. I'll go back to my room and leave you to whatever it is that's so engrossing you didn't hear me come up here."

Mal took the mug. "Huh," he grunted, and took a sip.

Simon stayed where he was. "Captain, did something go wrong with the job?"

Mal shook his head. "All shiny, Doc."

"Then...?" Simon enquired. When Mal kept silent, he continued delicately. "Captain - Mal - I can't help noticing that you've been a little more tense than usual."

Mal shrugged. "What of it? Gotta find the crime, keep you in supplies for that infirmary."

"But I thought things were going relatively smoothly right now," Simon persisted. "And it isn't just myself who's noticed. Has Jayne done something?"

Mal choked, then carefully set down his mug. "Now why would ya go askin' a thing like that?"

"Because it appears that every time you see him lately, you shout at him. And if you don't shout at him, you're rude to everyone else."

With a dangerous edge in his voice, Mal said, "This don't concern you, Doc. Go see ta yer sister."

"I'm concerned about your health, Captain," Simon stood his ground. "At the very least, I need to check your blood pressure."

"That weren't a suggestion, Doctor!" Mal snapped.

"Fine!" Simon said, exasperated. "But after dinner I want to see you in the infirmary."

"Or what?" Mal set his jaw, stubbornly.

"Or I will have to come and check you over wherever you happen to be." On medical issues, Simon was even more stubborn than Mal.

"Doc!"

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Simon said calmly, and left Mal to continue his search for more jobs.

* * *

Jayne made it back to Serenity with a minute to spare. He jogged along the docks, something large and metallic carried on one shoulder, and a small bag clutched in his hand.

Mal stood just inside the cargo bay, one hand on the button that would close the ramp. "Cuttin' it a mite fine, ain't ya?" he drawled.

"Yeah, well, I ain't late. An' I ain't done nuthin', if'n yer gonna start on me again," Jayne said, heading past the Captain. He didn't seem annoyed, though. In fact, Mal could have sworn his merc was actually cheerful.

Mal thumped the button, then hit the radio. "Wash! All aboard. Take us up." He watched the big man take the stairs with remarkable grace, still carrying that engine part on his shoulder. As Jayne headed towards the engine room, Mal heard him start to whistle. He wondered what was in the bag.

* * *

"Here y'are, Kaylee." Jayne lifted the hunk of metal off his shoulder as he entered the engine room. "Where d'ya want me ta put it fer ya?"

"Shiny!" Kaylee beamed. "Just over by my hammock'll do fer now. I ain't gonna try fixin' it 'til I've run a bunch o' tests on it. Wouldn't do my girl any good ta be fittin' her with a part that don't work right, would it?" She stroked the engine casing, keeping an eye on her girl as the ship made its way off-planet.

Jayne put the part down carefully by Kaylee's hammock.

"What didja get? Anythin' shiny?" Kaylee asked.

Jayne looked at the bag in his hand, and wrapped it tighter around its contents. "Uh... nothin' special..." he muttered, and turned to go.

"Jayne!"

The merc turned back. "Yeah, Kaylee?"

"Ain't ya gonna tell me?" Kaylee asked, wide-eyed.

"Nothin' ta tell!" Jayne protested. "Look, Kaylee, I don't pry inta yer shoppin' habits. Well, not less'n ya got somethin' tasty. Or any o' them catalogues. With the girls wearin' nothin' but them panties look like scraps o' nothin..." He leered.

"No, silly!" Kaylee sighed. "What about the Cap'n?"

Jayne grinned. "He was waitin' by the ramp, like ya said. Still bein' his cheery-ass self."

"He say anythin'?"

"Jus' tried ta make out he'd a left me if'n I'd been any later," Jayne said.

"I'm tellin' ya, he's sweet on ya," Kaylee insisted, then put her hand over her mouth. "He ain't out there, is he?"

Jayne cast a glance down the corridor. "Nah," he said. "I still think yer as bug-crazy as River on this. Mal ain't sweet on me. He ain't stopped raggin' on me since 'Nara left."

"Because he's too _wu tou wu nao_ ta come out an' say anythin' to ya!" Kaylee said, exasperated. "Mal ever say anythin' to Inara 'bout the way he felt? No! He jus' picked fights with her 'til she left!"

"Huh." Jayne scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Guess we'll see."

Kaylee grinned. "Jayne Cobb! I know you ain't too particular 'bout the comp'ny ya keep, but 'r'ya sayin' ya'd bunk with the Cap'n?"

"Don't see any reason why not. Long's he stops raggin' on me. I ain't too keen on that." He shrugged. 'Sides, ain't like I'm gettin' sexed anyplace else. We ain't stayed still long enough ta do more'n pick up supplies in the past three months. I'm gettin' kinda itchy. Ma boys wanna play!"

"Jayne! I ain't talkin' 'bout yer boys! 'Specially not when I ain't gettin' sexed myself." Kaylee sighed. As Jayne leered again, she punched him lightly on the arm. "I ain't askin'! Shoo!"

"Aw!" Jayne rubbed his shoulder, laughed, and strolled out of the engine room.

Mal clattered along the walkway, through the galley, heading for the engine room just in time to see Jayne leer at Kaylee and get hit. As the big man turned and ducked into the corridor, laughing, Mal stepped forwards and punched Jayne in the face.

The merc staggered back. "_Húndàn_! What 'n the ruttin' hell's got into ya, Mal?"

Mal glowered. "I seem ta recall warnin' you ta keep yerself away from my mechanic! Are you wantin' me ta put you out o' the airlock? Because I'm mighty tempted to oblige!"

Kaylee hurried into the corridor. "No, Cap'n! It weren't like that!"

Mal looked from one to the other, scepticism writ large upon his face. "Really. Well why don't you tell me what it was like, then?" He folded his arms, seeming to take up the entire width of the corridor.

"Jayne was just sayin'-" Kaylee began, only to be interrupted by the man himself.

"I wuz sayin', _Cap'n_, that we ain't stopped any place long enough fer me ta get laid in near-on three months, now."

The Captain's scowled. "An' that's a fit topic ta be discussin' with Kaylee, is it?"

"I ain't a child, Cap'n!" Kaylee protested, stung by Mal's tone. "I ain't gettin' laid neither, an' my nethers'r' startin' to forget what it feels like!"

"I can't know that!" Mal said, shocked. When Kaylee opened her mouth to continue, he held up a hand. "No, really! I mean it! Jayne, keep your urges ta yourself. You too, Kaylee! This ain't up fer discussion!"

Turning, he stalked back up the corridor. As he entered the galley, he called over his shoulder, "We'll be dockin' at the SkyPlex Space Bazaar in a couple o' days. Should be there a day, maybe two. Till then, no urges! We clear?"

"Aye, Cap'n!" Kaylee called.

Jayne grunted, and rubbed his jaw. "Guess I'd better go not have urges someplace else."

* * *

It was Mal's turn to cook. Even with the fresh ingredients they'd managed to pick up, dinner still had trouble lifting above bland.

"Weren't there no spices?" Kaylee asked, plaintively.

Zoë shook her head. "Seems their last shipment got bought up by the Alliance, and the next one's delayed. Price was through the roof."

Mal nodded. "Which is why Serenity's stash of chilli powder paid for half our fuel. Much as I'm wary of the place, once I've concluded some business at the Bazaar, we're callin' to Harvest to pick up cargo, then we're headin' straight back to Greenleaf."

Wash looked thoughtful. "Isn't that where apple mint cloves grow?"

"Yes, but I thought their crops were bought up years in advance," Simon said, puzzled.

Mal grinned. "Yup. Which is why we're on commission for Horace Tuttle, pickin' up the crop he paid for ten years ago."

"Really, sir?" Zoë asked, laying down her fork.

"Got papers say we are, anyhow," Mal confirmed, and washed down his dinner with a swallow of coffee.

Whatever business the Captain had to take care of at the Bazaar, he wasn't saying.

Jayne, apart from insisting on having Mal as his spotter when he was lifting weights in the cargo bay, spent much of the intervening couple of days alone in his bunk, wrestling with the book of poetry. At intervals - usually right around the time he was ready to throw the book at the wall, climb out of his bunk and go punch somebody - River would stick her head into his bunk and throw him another not-so-cryptic comment.

"Dockin' in five!" Wash's voice rang out over the intercom, followed by Mal's.

"Y'all can get up here so's I c'n go through the order o' business."

Jayne grunted, and looked at the thin sheaf of papers he held. They were covered in his scrawl, which he'd made a real effort to keep readable, and they weren't even all that crumpled. There was a grease spot on page two, and a dirty thumb-print on page four, but apart from that they were pretty clean.

"These better do!" He folded them twice, then carefully slid them into an envelope, which he licked and sealed, making a face at the taste.

He took a look round his bunk. His girls all secure? Yup. Posters? Stuck up tight. Bed? Clean and made. Poetry book? With a curse, he stuffed it under his mattress. Book safely hidden.

All right, then.

Sliding the envelope into the waistband of his cargo pants, he tucked his t-shirt in over it, hiding it from sight. Then he grabbed his hat, climbed up the ladder and headed to the bridge.

"Good of you ta join us," Mal said, unsmiling.

"I was just finishin' up on that heat exchanger," Kaylee explained, flushing. She wiped at her cheek with a rag, but that only smeared the black oil further.

Mal looked round his crew, crowded onto the bridge.

"First up, we got mail ta collect. You c'n all come along on that. After, provided there ain't no surprises this time..." He paused as the crew exchanged glances, waiting until they gave him their attention once more. "After that, Zoë, you're with me. Shouldn't take more'n an hour. The rest of you, ya got till tomorrow night, say around ten. You ain't back here by then, you better be in jail or in the hospital. An' let me be clear on this, I ain't lookin' ta bail anyone out, nor go takin' flowers ta sickbeds, you hear?"

There was a chorus of agreements from his crew.

"Shiny. You got fifteen minutes, then I want you all ready to go." He turned and looked out at the approaching Bazaar as Wash followed instructions from the Sky Plex's flight control.

"Shiny!" Kaylee said, excitedly. "I gotta go get washed up! Simon, we never did get to go see them paintings you wanted to see..." Her voice faded away as she hurried down the corridor, closely followed by Simon and River.

Zoë cast a swift look at Jayne, then turned to the Captain. "Sir, care to tell me if there's anything in particular I should bring with me?"

Mal shook his head. "Shouldn't need anythin', 's far as I c'n make out."

"Sir?"

Mal ignored her. With a sigh, Zoë bent and placed a swift kiss on her husband's cheek, then straightened up and left the cockpit.

Jayne leaned against the doorway, watching Serenity glide closer to the docking bays. Well, to be truthful, he was watching Mal watch their approach. He took in the tense set of his shoulders, which weren't anyhow as broad as his own, but not bad for all of that. He'd seen the muscles that lay under that worn red shirt, all across his back and down his arms, and for a man who didn't appear to lift too many weights, they were reasonable. Yeah, reasonable.

The man needed a haircut, though. His thick dark brown hair was just curling over his collar, hiding his neck. Travelling down, Jayne's gaze settled on the Captain's _pìgu_, which, actually, looked damn good in them tight trousers... Gorramit! Look what Kaylee and her damn fool ideas were leadin' to! Standin' oglin' the Captain like some _fēngle_ schoolgirl! He shifted uncomfortably, sticking his hands in his pockets to hide the result of his ogling.

"There some reason you're hangin' around here, Jayne?" Mal asked, not looking round.

Jayne cleared his throat. "I, uh... Ain't nothin' ta do 'cept get off this boat."

"Well go take your nothin' elsewhere. You'll be off soon enough, an' I don't want you distractin' our good pilot, less'n he flies us into a wall instead of a dockin' bay."

"Right. Fine." Jayne stumbled out of the cockpit and fairly fled down the corridor.

Wash cast surreptitious glances at Mal, his hands guiding the ship safely across the last few tens of metres of space.

"What was all that about?" he asked.

"I don't rightly know what you mean," Mal said, and grinned, his black mood suddenly lifting. One thing about the black was it was mostly, well, black. And it turned a clear panel like, say, a windshield, into a handy mirror... He wasn't entirely sure what Jayne was up to neither, and the man had been hiding in his bunk the last two days, but still, he'd definitely been eyeing up Mal's behind. With interest.

Whistling, the Captain left the cockpit with a spring in his step.

* * *

Trying to get his crew through the Bazaar to the post office without having them dart off to check out stalls was, Mal reflected, wishful thinking. It had been a lot easier herding cattle. At least then he was allowed to use a cattle prod... When Kaylee stopped for the third time to admire a rainbow-coloured display of silk scarves, he snapped.

"Kaylee! You got two days to come and check out these stalls - right after we get the mail. So move it along! Come on, people!"

With a pout, Kaylee moved along. A few minutes later they reached the post office, where the Postmaster glowered at them.

"Got anything for Serenity?" Mal asked.

"Got any ID?" retorted the man, jowls wobbling. He leaned forward over the counter and hissed, "You know what happened last time? No? They threatened to burn this place, and me along with it! You're lucky I don't redirect your mail all the way to Lilac! Or Ariel! And as for excess postage charges? You'll be paying them off 'til you're too old to remember to swallow when you eat!"

"Hey, I'm sorry." Mal said, raising his hands in a gesture of placation. "I'm real sorry to have brought trouble down on you. I nearly got my ship blown up by mines, and my mechanic shot, that's any consolation to ya. I weren't lookin' fer that trouble my own self."

Not much mollified, the postmaster grunted. "Well don't expect any favours from me. You owe me, Reynolds."

Mal nodded. "I reckon I do. Tell you what, you got anythin' needin' to go to Harvest, we'll run it there."

The postmaster thought for a minute. "I'll check," he said, and pulled down the metal grille, then headed into the back.

A few minutes later, he came out with a fistful of letters and two small boxes. Reopening the grille, he slid them across the counter.

"Here's your mail," he said grumpily. "We got a couple' items need taking out that way. When're you leaving?"

"Tomorrow evening," Mal said. "Unless trouble comes lookin' again."

"With you, Captain, that's a certainty," the postmaster said drily. "Come by before six, I'll give you the items. I'll need you to sign for them, and they'll be in a tamper-proof bag. You try opening it, they'll be incinerated and so'll your hands."

"I'm guessin' I'll be leavin' it well alone," Mal agreed, taking the mail. "See you later."

He turned to his crew and handed out the letters. Kaylee had one from her family, and a catalogue of engine parts. Zoë and Wash had a couple of letters, and one of the boxes was for Wash. Jayne had a gun magazine, the other box, and a letter which didn't appear to have been written in crayon. And there was a pink, scented envelope with delicate, spidery handwriting, which, when Mal managed to decipher it, turned out to be for Inara.

"Only one bill! Things must be lookin' up," Mal quipped. "Kaylee, c'n you recall the postal address for Inara?"

"Sure, Cap'n," Kaylee looked up from her letter and nodded.

"You c'n put it on here, then," Mal said, handing over the letter.

Wash opened his box with a cry of glee. "Oh, that's wonderful, honey. How did you know?" He kissed his wife, then hurriedly pulled the Allosaurus out of the box.

"You might have mentioned it a time or two," Zoë admitted with a smile. "Or three..."

Jayne folded his magazine in half lengthways and stuffed it into the rear pocket of his cargo pants, then opened the box. On top lay a letter. He unfolded it and read aloud.

"'Dear Jayne, I hope you still got yer hat, 'cos I made these ta go with it. I hope you are keepin' well. Thanks fer the money. Mattie's well fer now, an' so'm I. Yer lovin' Ma.' Shiny!" He reached into the box and pulled out a pair of purple, green and mustard-yellow fingerless gloves. Underneath them was a scarf, made of the same colours, but with a few stripes of mauve thrown in for good measure. Grinning, Jayne picked bits of straw off them and put them on, then pulled his hat out of a pocket and tugged it on.

The crew stared in horrified fascination.

"Jayne..." Simon began. "In what world do those 'go' with your hat...?"

Jayne scowled at the young doctor. "They go together 'cause my Ma made 'em all. Fer me. Ta go together. Fer such a smart guy, yer real dumb sometimes."

"I think they look great," Wash chimed in. When Jayne turned his scowl in the pilot's direction, the little man hurriedly added, "Really! I do!" He ignored a sceptical look from his wife. "The colours are just so cheery!"

"Like your shirts, dear," Zoë chipped in.

Wash grinned. "Yeah..."

Mal stuffed the bill into his pocket. "Zoë, you're comin' with me. We'll be an hour. The rest of you, mind what I said. We leave at ten tomorrow night. You ain't on the boat, you'll just have ta hang around 'til we get back. Stay out of trouble!"

Zoë turned to Wash. "You know that bar on the upper level?"

"The one with the fish tank?" Wash nodded. "Yeah, I remember it."

"I'll meet you there in an hour." She leaned in closer and spoke quietly. "If anything comes up, I'll try to get word to you there." They kissed, then she strode off, following Mal. Wash watched her go.

"I wish I knew where they're going," he said.

"Why, you reckon they'll need rescuin'?" Jayne said, glancing after them.

"No. Probably not. It's just that trouble has a way of finding Mal, whether he's looking for it or not." Wash sighed.

Jayne grunted. "Want me ta follow 'em?"

Wash looked at Jayne in surprise. "You'd do that?"

Jayne shrugged. "Ain't got nuthin' pressin' ta do."

"Yes, then. I'd like that. But you might want to take off your knitwear first."

Jayne looked puzzled, until Kaylee added, "If anythin' happens, ya don't want to get blood on them fine things, do ya?"

"Good thinkin'," Jayne said, and grinned. He pulled off his gloves and hat, then unwound the scarf from round his neck. "Look after 'em for me, will ya?" He handed them to Kaylee, who nodded.

"Sure will! Ain't nothin' gonna happen to 'em, Jayne."

Jayne grunted, then slipped away into the crowds after Mal and Zoë. Somehow, he managed to make himself inconspicuous, and the others quickly lost sight of him.

"How does he do that?" Simon asked. "He's a great hulking man-ape with all the grace of an quadraplegic gorilla. Yet somehow he manages to do... that!" He gestured in the direction Jayne had gone.

Wash stared after Jayne. "Beats me how he does it. There was this one time on Boros when Mal and Zoë got caught by a posse of this landowner's men. Jayne followed them three miles back through woods, and by the time they got within spitting distance of the lockup, he'd picked off all bar three of them, one by one. Just grabbed 'em from behind, pulled them off the trail. Zoë swears even she didn't hear a thing." He shivered. "Still, as long as he doesn't decide to pick us off one by one, we'll be fine!" Finally looking back at the others, he forced a smile. "Anyone want a drink? I think I'm going to go sit in that bar upstairs."

"There are a few things I could do with picking up..." Simon began, then seeing Wash's expression, said hurriedly, "Of course, if we've got the best part of two days here, I suppose I could go for a drink with you first. River, Kaylee, would you care to accompany us?"

Gallantly he held out his elbow to Kaylee, who beamed and slipped her arm through his.

"Be delighted to! Ain't that how they say it, Simon?" she asked.

"It most certainly is," Simon smiled.

Wash held his elbow out to River, who raised an eyebrow and stared at him.

"What? I was just trying to be polite!" Wash protested.

"Brownian motion does not require assistance," she pointed out, and danced and darted around them as they made their way to the bar.

* * *

Jayne followed Mal and Zoë quite easily. They weren't making any effort to be stealthy, and they weren't bothering to check behind them.

Jayne shook his head in disgust. If anyone should know better'n that, it should be them two. The others hadn't no more sense than a pack o' puppies, but Zoë 'n' the Cap'n didn't let their guard down. It were lucky fer them he'd got their backs.

Mal made his way through the bazaar closely followed by Zoë, and, at a distance, Jayne. Close to one of the inner hub walls there was a dark, grubby coffeehouse. The narrow front had a battered bead curtain across the doorway and a small, grimy window. There was no name, but the couple of tiny tables out front gave away what it was.

Jayne swore. There weren't no way he was gonna get inside without being spotted. He settled for a doorfront further along the row of stores. It looked like it had once sold cheap-ass jewellery, but the metal grille was down over the inside of the window, and the shelves were empty. Still, the doorway was deep enough to give him some cover.

He waited.

Half an hour later, Jayne was reduced to cleaning under his nails with a small knife. There was no sign of Zoë or Mal, no sign of a fight, or of any fuss at all. He sighed, and patted his waist. He could feel the crinkle of paper: his letter was still there.

"Should'a left 'em to it," he growled softly to himself. "Should'a just posted this off ta Madam Wu an' gone off ta find me a spot ta spend some coin."

He shook his head. What was he doing waitin' here, talkin' to himself? Weren't like Mal'd asked fer his help, set him on backup. Weren't like that pair couldn't handle 'emselves, neither. Mal didn't need him ta save his ass, mighty fine though it were. His mouth went dry thinking on Mal standing in the cockpit, tight pants an' that shirt makin' his shoulders look so broad - _tiān a_! He was damned if he were gonna stand around moonin' over Mal. He weren't no member of the Cap'n Tightpants fan club!

Disgusted with himself, Jayne stalked out into the street. At that moment, Mal and Zoë pushed their way through the beaded curtain. Zoë was smiling, and Mal looked smug, but his expression sharpened as he caught sight of the tall man bearing down on him.

"Jayne! _Tiān xiăodé_, what're you doin' here?"

"Ain't sure myself," Jayne snapped. "What're you doin' here?"

"Nothin' that concerns more'n Zoë an' myself. Which I thought I had made abundantly clear." Mal was back to scowling at Jayne.

"Sir, might wanna move this someplace else," Zoë said discreetly.

"Mayhap you're right there. Jayne, you c'n tell me why you took it on yourself to come followin' after us while we go find the others." Without checking to see if Jayne was following, he turned and strode off towards the bazaar.

Jayne caught up with him at the corner. "Wash was worried," he said without preamble. "Said I'd keep an eye out. Which is good, 'cause neither o' you were. Didn't spot me once on the way, did ya?" He stuck his jaw out belligerantly, the last of his good mood having evaporated.

A tiny frown crossed Zoë's face. "I believe I'll be having words with Wash, sir."

"I believe you will be, Zo'. Can't be havin' him sendin' Jayne after us every time we leave the ship. Not unless he's plannin' on hiring my merc out from under me. And knowin' what I pay him, he can't afford to keep him in ammo anyhow."

"Hey!" Jayne said, surprised at how much Mal's words stung. "Ain't like ya ta go off without tellin' anyone where, least of all with Zoë in tow. Anythin' could happen, an' it ain't like y'ain't got no enemies would be glad ta find ya on yer own. Don't need Wash ta hire me." He grabbed Mal's arm, and the man whirled round to face him, ready to bawl him out.

"I ain't never gonna be one o' yer soldiers, Mal, but I'm the man ya hired ta watch yer back. An' that's what I'm doin', even when ya make it damn near impossible!"

Furious, he dropped Mal's arm and strode off into the bazaar, pushing his way through the crowds.

Zoë looked at Mal.

Mal avoided looking at her, realised he was watching after Jayne instead, and looked down at the floor. He sighed.

"You got a way o' saying nothin' that's very loud, Zoë."

"Sir."

"Best find that husband o' yours." He gestured, and this time it was Zoë's turn to lead the way.

* * *

Jayne downed his first beer, knocking back the whisky chaser with a grimace. The second was already lined up.

Gorramn infuriatin' man! Couldn't even be civil, not ever. Not to Jayne. And gorramn Wash an' his wife-worry!

He drank his second beer a little more slowly.

Really, it were all down ta Kaylee an' her interferin'. If she hadn't'a said that about the Cap'n while they was off out at that junk yard... He'd'a kept on thinkin' he'd done somethin' ta annoy Mal. An' he wouldn't be sittin' here in a bar by himself, downin' beers like there weren't a tomorrow.

Hells, fer all he knew, there weren't no gorramn tomorrow, not fer him.

"Buy a girl a drink?" A sultry voice purred in his ear. At least, it probably had been sultry ten years ago.

Jayne looked round.

At his elbow, a tall, brown-haired woman leaned against the bar. She was broad in the shoulders, but otherwise scrawny to Jayne's mind. He looked down the length of her, taking in her short black skirt, then looked back up at her worn green dragon-print blouse. He didn't miss the bruises on her knees and neck, nor the marks on the inside of her arm.

He shook his head. "Temptin', but I ain't in a buyin' mood."

She pouted. "What would it take ta get ya in a buyin' mood?"

"Someone who ain't on bubble," Jayne said, nodding at her arm.

She rubbed at the marks, then folded her arms so he couldn't see them any more. Shrugging, she said, "Ain't on it now."

"Yeah, well, I ain't interested. An' yer puttin' me off my beer."

"_Liú kŏushŭi de biăozi hé hóuzi de bèn érzi_!" She flounced out, leaving the merc staring into his glass.

"Can't even enjoy a ruttin' beer in peace!" He pushed the beer away from him in disgust. "Nor a whore! _Tā mā de_! Gorram Mal ruttin' Reynolds!" He stood up and fished in his pocket, slapping coin down on the bar. A rustle reminded him of the envelope stuffed in his waistband, and striding out of the bar, he headed back to the post office.

* * *

Mal and Zoë pulled up chairs and sat down at either end of the table.

"Everything go all right?" Wash asked, innocently, smiling at his wife. He slid a bottle over to her.

Mal smiled. It wasn't pretty. "Sure, Wash!" he said jovially. "Our clandestine business went just peachy. Me'n'Zoë here had a great time bein' followed by Jayne!" His smile disappeared. "What were you thinkin', Wash? Sendin' Jayne after us?"

Wash's smile vanished. "I just happened to hope that you weren't leading my lovely wife into danger, and Jayne just volunteered to go," he babbled. "It wasn't as though I sent him, or anything!"

Kaylee chimed in. "Yeah, he left his stuff with me, Cap'n. See?" She produced the colourful knitwear.

"I don't care what he left!" Mal snapped. "Wash, you do anythin' like that again, an' you'n'me's gonna have that discussion on just who's in charge around here." He pushed back his chair and stood up. "Kaylee, gimme Jayne's stuff. Be back on Serenity by tomorrow night."

The crew watched as he wove his way between tables and out of the bar.

Zoë took a swig of beer.

"Zoë, honey..." Wash began, but she held up a hand and he fell silent.

"Don't go there, husband." She set down her bottle. "The Captain and I went to see Tracey's sister."

"Oh!" Kaylee gasped, round-eyed. "Laura's here?"

Zoë nodded. "She didn't feel up to meeting everyone again. The Cap'n passed along your regards."

"How is she?" Simon asked. "It's got to be tough."

"She's gettin' by. Got a husband, a job. She wanted to pass along a few of Tracey's things from the war. Cap'n gave her a little to help her along."

"And it had to be a big secret?" Wash asked.

"Not somethin' the Cap'n wanted you all watchin', him havin' a reputation to maintain an' all." The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"That's it?" Simon asked. "Mal doesn't like us knowing he can be compassionate occasionally? The man may be psychotic at times, but I think we'd already figured this one out."

"If the shell is cracked, who knows what may spill out?" River asked, her voice serious. "Things may never go back in."

"So we're good?" Wash asked quietly, putting a hand on Zoë's arm.

She eyed him. "We're good," she said. "Doesn't mean we aren't goin' to have a little talk about trust, though."

Wash groaned. "We can't enjoy our downtime first?"

"It depends on where you were planning on taking me for dinner," Zoë said, straight-faced.

"Really? Oh..." Wash grinned. "There's this little place just round the corner I hear does excellent dim sum."

"Where ya goin' fer dinner, Simon?" Kaylee asked, and sipped something that was unfeasibly pink.

"Erm..."

"Wanna find somewhere does real vegetables and noodles?" Kaylee asked. "I bet there's a bunch o' places here."

She was practically bouncing in her seat at the thought of proper food, and Simon found himself laughing. "Of course! That sounds ideal. As long as you're happy with that, River?"

River nodded. "Beta Carotene, vitamins B complex, C, D, E, K, magnesium, zinc and iodine are all essential for proper biological functions. We should go." She smiled briefly, and sucked her blue slurpee through a straw.

Simon laughed again. "Vegetables it is!"

* * *

Mal called into the post office. "Hey," he said, nodding to the Postmaster, who waved.

"Got something to post?"

"What? No, I'm here to collect the bag for Harvest," Mal said, puzzled.

"Your man just left with it. All signed for." He slid over a clipboard, and Mal could clearly see Jayne's scrawl of a signature.

Recovering quickly, Mal slid the clipboard back. "Oh, yeah. Wasn't sure I'd make it back before you'd shut, so I asked him ta stop by when he finished shoppin'." He added casually, "He, uh... He post anythin'?"

"The usual couple o' letters," the Postmaster said. "I must say I'm impressed by his persistence."

"'Scuse me?"

"Madame Wu's Academy. Must be four years he's been sendin' through his essays. Surely he's about done, right?"

"Uh... yeah," Mal agreed. "Gotta go do... stuff." He hurried out of the post office.

"Madame Wu's Academy? What the hell...?"

* * *

Jayne dropped the postbag on the table in the galley along with the bottle of bourbon he'd picked up in the bazaar. He headed down to his bunk, took a leak, then reached under his mattress for Mal's book and a small wrapped package.

"Best put ya back in the Cap'n's bunk 'fore he gets back." He grinned, and headed up his ladder.

Mal's bunk was locked, but Jayne knew the code. He climbed down the ladder and put the package on Mal's bed. "Sure hope he likes it," he rumbled, carefully placing the book on top of it. "Be a sad waste o' coin otherwise." He looked round the bunk, breathing in the scent of oil and leather and soap, a smell which was uniquely Mal.

"Gorramit!" He cursed, feeling himself get half-hard. "Gotta get myself laid 'fore I get as _fēngle_ as Moonbrain!" Quickly he clambered out of Mal's bunk and locked it again, and headed into the galley. And stopped.

Seated at the table, with a mug of his bourbon, was Mal.

"_Āiyā_, Mal! Didn't hear ya come back on board!" Warily, he stood in the doorway, carefully watching to see what kind of mood the Captain was in. He didn't have long to wait.

Mal leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "Hey there, Jayne. Find anythin' interestin' in my bunk?"

"I was just returnin' somethin'." Jayne shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he should grab a weapon.

"An' what would that be, Jayne?" The Captain smiled a tight little smile that didn't touch his eyes. "What possible thing could it be that you had ta return to my bunk? When there ain't a single soul on this boat?"

Jayne didn't answer, so Mal continued.

"Seems to me the only thing I'm missin' is somethin' River has. Or at least, I thought she had." He leaned forwards, hands no longer imitating ease but fisted on the table.

"What the hell's Madame Wu's Academy?"

"_Tā mā de_! What d'ya know about that?" Jayne gasped, air leaving his lungs as though he'd been sucker-punched.

"Only that you've been sendin' letters regular for nigh-on four years. An' y'ain't seen fit ta mention a single word ta me! Seems ta me we've had words about keepin' secrets before now. What's Madame Wu's Academy, Jayne?"

Jayne turned on his heel and stalked back to his bunk. He heard the scrape of a chair as Mal stood up to follow him, but he kicked open the hatch and dropped down. As Mal climbed down after him, he tore down poster after poster, naked women tumbling to the floor.

"There," he said, a ball of frustration and fury swelling in his stomach and in his throat, threatening to choke him. "That's Madame Wu's Academy! You gonna punch me now, Mal? Huh?" He turned his head, unable to look the other man in the eyes.

"What the...?" Mal stared at the walls. Where each of the posters had been was a certificate. He stepped forward to read them.

"Jayne Cobb, weapon maintenance with distinction. Jayne Cobb, ballistics in theory and practise, with distinction. Jayne Cobb, explosives, with distinction. History of weapons, tactical theory, metallurgy and edged weaponry..." The Captain's voice trailed away.

"You mean ta tell me all these're yours?"

Mutely, Jayne nodded, still unable to look at the Captain.

"You've been takin'... correspondence courses?" A tone of disbelief entered his voice.

Jayne cleared his throat. "Yeah, well... Ain't no fancy Core university or nuthin' like that, but I done pretty good." He risked looking up.

Mal was staring at him, open-mouthed. "Jayne, you got distinctions? In all o' these?"

Jayne shrugged, and sat down on his bunk. There was a long pause.

"Don't know 'bout you, but I need a drink," Mal said, his anger gone. "Comin'?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** This is Joss Whedon's sandbox. I'm just playing!

In the galley, Mal poured Jayne a generous measure of his bourbon and slid it across to where the merc sat. He took his own mug and swallowed a generous mouthful.

"Talk ta me, Jayne," Mal said softly.

"Ain't much ta say," Jayne shrugged.

"How'd ya get started?"

Jayne took a slug of bourbon, then, holding onto his mug, he began.

"Were a few years ago, I saw this advert 'n the back o' a magazine. _Guns'n'Ammo_, or somesuch. An' it were for a correspondence course in weapons maintenance. Weren't much money, an' I figured if I learned anythin' it'd be, whatcha call it, an investment. Make me worth more ta an employer. So I sent off, an' back comes this course. There were captures with all these techniques on it, an' it were downright interestin', Mal! When I got ma results back... well, I ain't never been good at nuthin' academical before. I suppose I got ta thinkin' I could make a little more o' myself. An' if'n I did, my Ma'd be so proud!"

He sipped his bourbon.

"I guess I got carried away. There's a lot o' time out in the black, an' only so many times I c'n clean ma girls or go work out. An' there's a lot o' time when I get shot or stabbed, an' I can't sleep. Every time I thought I'd done the last one, I'd get bored, an' I'd get another certificate. And Madame Wu started sendin' me letters. She tol' me she ain't never had no-one do as good as me. She said if I did just a few more courses, I'd have enough ta graduate."

He looked across at Mal, who was watching him with compassion.

"I ain't never graduated from nowhere, Mal. None o' my folks never graduated neither. Turned out I did enough o' the science an' the history, but I had ta do a literature course." He pronounced the word with care. "Literature. What 'n the ruttin' hells do I know 'bout literature, Mal?" He scratched his head.

"I wrote an' told her so, but Madame Wu, she said there was things out there suited ta my nature. Poems about fightin'. They're short enough, an' they're about somethin' I know a whole lot of."

"So you stole my book," Mal said.

Jayne shrugged. "Borrowed. I borrowed it, an' if ya want ta check, it's back in yer bunk. I ain't damaged it, neither."

"You let River take the blame," Mal pointed out.

"You'd 'a' made me give it back," Jayne said, and drained his mug. He pushed it back to Mal for a refill. "I got River a bunch o' ribbons an' pretty things, put 'em in her bunk 'fore comin' up here." He took the mug back, now refilled, and took another swallow. "'Sides, weren't like I forced her to, or nothin'. Were as much a surprise ta me when she came out an' said she had it."

Mal shook his head. "Fact remains you owe her an apology. Got the Doc all worried 'bout what she might be readin'. Some o' those poems ain't suitable. An' y'owe me an apology too."

"If I'da asked, would ya have lent me yer book?" Jayne studied the man seated by him.

Mal ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "No, I daresay not."

"Y'all would've laughed clear ta the Rim 'n' back, if'n ya'd caught me readin' poetry."

"True enough," Mal conceded.

"Mal... I'm sorry I took yer book, an' I know what it means ta ya. I'm even sorry I let Moonbrain carry the can fer me. But she did it willin', an' without any askin' from me. An' I ain't sorry that I got the chance ta graduate."

"At least that's honest," Mal drained his mug and refilled it. "So when do ya find out?"

"Probably another month or so. Next time we call by here there should be somethin'."

"There a ceremony to go ta?"

"A what-now?" Jayne finished his second mug, and Mal topped it up without being asked.

"A ceremony. There's usually some kind o' ceremony for a graduation, I hear tell," Mal explained.

Surprised, Jayne shrugged. "I ain't heard o' nuthin' like that. Don't mean there ain't, though. Guess I'll find out. Huh."

There was a long pause. Both men sipped their drinks, before Mal broke the silence once more.

"So how come you ain't out celebratin' with a beer an' a whore?"

Lazily, Jayne looked Mal up and down. "Had me a couple o' beers, but I guess I weren't in the mood fer it. Got hassled by a whore, but she'd Bubble marks down her arms. Wouldn't've been much o' a celebration, now, would it?"

Mal shook his head, eyeing his mercenary back. "Nope, guess not."

"'Sides," the tall man continued, "Some things jus' ain't so appealin' these days."

"Jayne Cobb! Don't tell me you're quittin' boozin' an' whorin'? I am downright shocked!"

Mal's expression was comical, but Jayne didn't feel like laughing. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Kaylee..."

"I already warned ya there, Jayne. She has her eye set on that pretty Doctor, ain't no rhyme nor reason in it, an' I ain't havin' ya upsettin' things," Mal warned.

Jayne waved a hand. "Naw, Mal! It ain't that."

"Well what is it, then?" It occurred to Mal that the bottle really shouldn't be almost empty, not so soon, and he upended it over his mug to see how much was left.

"Hey!" Jayne grabbed the bottle from him, and poured the last few drops into his own mug. "Y'ain't havin' all o' it!" He drained his mug for the last time, then set it down forcefully and stared belligerently at the Captain.

"Kaylee said yer sweet on me," He glared defiantly.

Feeling suddenly far too sober, Mal downed the last of his bourbon too. "Ain't none o' Kaylee's business what I am," he muttered, avoiding the merc's glare. "An' it ain't none o' yours, neither." He pushed his chair back and stood up on rubbery legs.

"Gorramit, Mal!" Jayne exploded, coming up out of his chair so fast Mal only had time to blink. He grabbed the Captain by his shirt front, hands fisting in the soft material. "What does it ruttin' take ta get through ta ya?" With an oath, the merc pulled him close and before Mal knew what was happening, Jayne's lips were pressed to his.

For one long, shocked second, Mal didn't move. Then he felt his mouth start moving back against the merc's, lips brushing Jayne's goatee. His arms lifted of their own accord, wrapping round the broad, muscled shoulders of the taller man. A tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his, clumsily nudging against his teeth. A low moan sounded, and it took a moment for Mal to realise it came from him.

At the sound, Jayne let go of his shirt and snaked one arm around his shoulders, the other cupping the back of his head. He turned Mal slightly, then, not breaking the kiss, stepped forwards. Mal felt the table hit the back of his thighs, then he was perched on the edge of the table, his arms around his mercenary, being kissed more thoroughly than he could ever remember being kissed before.

For long moments, Mal gave himself over to sensation. Jayne's mouth, his tongue, kissed him so greedily, so skillfully, that for the time being, he could do nothing but surrender. The strength in Jayne's arms, the gentleness of his hands, and the solid, muscled wall of Jayne's chest pressed to his were like nothing else he'd experienced.

Then Jayne rolled his hips forwards, and through the rough cloth of his trousers, Mal felt the press of the big man's _diăo_ against his own. _Lăotiān_, that felt good! The merc moved his hips again, and Mal groaned. Roughly, Jayne pulled Mal tight up against him.

Mal stilled. Then he was pushing at Jayne, hard enough that the merc stumbled back. Mal just made it to the sink in time as the bourbon made a reappearance.

"Gorramit, Mal!" Jayne came over and put a hand on his back. "When was the last time you ate? Stupid _húndàn_!" There was no rancour in his voice.

When Mal had finished, Jayne fished a clean mug out of a locker and filled it with water. "Here, sit."

Mal took the water and sat.

"Wait here. I'll be back in five." Jayne clattered out of the galley leaving Mal sitting at the table.

He drank the water slowly, then rested his head on the table. What was he doing? Kissing Jayne! Jayne! And kissing! On the mouth!

He groaned. Gorramn complications!

* * *

Jayne grabbed two bowls of ramen and some meat-looking things on sticks and headed back to the ship. Mal should'a known better'n ta down half a bottle o' bourbon on an empty stomach. They coulda got ta...

His steps slowed as he came within sight of the ship. They coulda got ta what, exactly? Sexin'? Hell, he'd been ready ta do Mal right there on the table. He hadn't been that eager in years, no matter how fond he was of sexin' in general. Turned out it were the 'in particular' made all the diff'rence. But without the bourbon, would they even've gotten ta the kissin'?

He shook his head, letting himself back into the ship. He was startin' ta think Mal might be right. Shipboard ruttin' just led to too many damn complications.

* * *

"Here, got ya somethin'," Jayne said, pushing the ramen over to Mal. He fished out a couple of plates and divided the mysterious meat-stick things between them. "Might wanna eat now, 'fore it gets cold," he said, taking a mouthful of stick-thing. With his mouth full, he continued, "Won't be near as good cold, I'm thinkin'."

Mal raised his head and looked at Jayne, bleary-eyed. "Ain't hungry," he managed.

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Eat!" He pushed the plate under Mal's nose, and the Captain recoiled.

"Smells like somethin' died! 'N' not'n a good way."

"Don't matter. Get it inside ya, 'n' ya won't have ta smell it no more."

To Mal's mind, the suggestion was almost reasonable. He picked up a stick, eyed it suspiciously, then bit into it. It weren't all that bad, he decided, and took another bite. In short order, he finished up the meat-stick things and started in on the ramen.

With a little smile, Jayne watched him eat. "Not too bad, huh?"

"Nuh-uh," Mal managed through a mouthful of noodles.

Jayne grinned. "Feelin' better?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Mal finished his noodles and pushed the plastic bowl away with a sigh. "Yeah, some," he said. "Ain't sure I'm up fer more'n' gettin' some shut-eye, though."

There was a pause, then Jayne spoke. "Mal, what's goin' on? 'Tween us?"

Pursing his lips, Mal shrugged. "Ain't entirely sure my own self, truth be told."

"Guess that's honest." Jayne collected the mugs and plates on the table and dumped them in the sink. He swept the plastic bowls into the trash, and set to washing up.

"You got any thoughts on the matter?" Mal asked, watching the muscles in Jayne's back move as he rinsed out the mugs.

Jayne glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Heck yeah, but they ain't got much further'n' ma bunk. 'R maybe yers."

"Hah!" Mal laughed. "Prob'ly not the greatest idea right now." He pushed back his chair and stood. "I guess I need ta think on it some more," he said regretfully. "Jayne, I ain't meanin' to get ya worked up an' then step away. It ain't that. It's just..."

"Yeah, I get it," Jayne said, turning from the sink. "It's complicated."

As Mal ducked through the doorway, he added, "Mal?"

Mal paused, but he didn't look round. "Yeah, Jayne?"

"It really don't have ta be. Complicated."

"Yeah, it does." Mal went down the corridor and Jayne heard his hatch slide open, then shut again.

"Gorramn complications!" Jayne stowed the crockery and headed to his own bunk to take care of certain pressing needs.

* * *

Mal slept through the evening, but woke at intervals as his crew stumbled in. Simon, Kaylee and River laughed together in the galley for a while, proving that for once the prissy Doc hadn't managed to say something stupid. Later, Wash and Zoe came through, talking quietly, intimately. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the way they said it, he knew they were doing well.

He didn't hear Jayne at all. Not that he was listening.

At last, in the small hours, he snapped the light on and swung his feet over the edge of the bunk. His foot collided with something on the floor.

"What the...?"

Mal reached down and picked up the object. "My book! I clear forgot about it!" He opened it at random and read aloud.

_"O joy of creation,__  
__To be!__  
__O rapture, to fly__  
__And be free!__  
__Be the battle lost or won,__  
__Though its smoke shall hide the sun,__  
__I shall find my love - the one__  
__Born for me!"_

"Huh." Carefully he closed the book again and laid it down on the shelf beside the bed. "Best not go there," he said quietly, and made to stand up.

His foot nudged something else.

He picked up a small, slim, paper-wrapped package. He turned it over, but there was no note. Carefully he pulled one end of the string, and the bow untied. He brushed the string away, and the paper fell open.

"_Wŏ de mā_!" he breathed.

In his hands lay a single small volume. Its pasteboard covers were a battered and faded green, and at one time gilt letters had been stamped across the front and spine.

With one finger, he opened the front cover.

"'Shakespeare: The Sonnets'. Huh."

He turned a couple of pages.

_"Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest__  
__Now is the time that face should form another;__  
__Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,__  
__Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.__  
__For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb__  
__Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?__  
__Or who is he so fond will be the tomb__  
__Of his self-love, to stop posterity?__  
__Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee__  
__Calls back the lovely April of her prime;__  
__So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,__  
__Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.__  
__But if thou live, remember'd not to be,__  
__Die single and thine image dies with thee."_

Mal stared at the book for a few minutes more, then closed it and placed it with the war poems. Speaking softly, he said, "If I were a superstitious man, I'd say someone were tryin' ta tell me somethin'. Since I ain't, reckon it's my cue ta get a drink."

The ship was quiet as he moved around the galley, making tea. Seated once more at the table, in the same seat he'd occupied earlier, Mal blew on his tea and waited for it to cool. Not for the first time, he felt lonely. The crew were the closest thing to family he had left in the 'verse, but there were places in his heart, his soul, which were empty as the black, an' weren't nothin' goin' ta fill 'em.

He sat in the gloom of the standby lighting and sipped his tea until it was all gone, then took a turn around the ship. Walking softly, he checked through the cargo bay, the infirmary, passenger dorms. Kaylee, for once, was in her bunk not the hammock in the engine room. He paused to stroke the engine housing.

"Good girl," he whispered, and patted it, before heading back to the galley, then ended up in the bridge. He sat in the pilot's seat and watched out of the windshield at the activity which never really stopped in the docks, until at last he dropped into a doze.

* * *

"Sir," Zoë said.

"Unh..." Mal lurched awake, reaching for the coffee being waved under his nose.

"Sleep well?"

Mal took the mug and sipped, then winced and rubbed at the crick in his neck.

"There's no call to go bein' cheery at this time in the mornin', Zo'," he grumbled.

"And there is to be sleepin' here?" His second-in-command watched him with concern. "Sir, you might want to consider tryin' a bed."

Mal stood and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back, with little success. "An' you might want ta consider makin' sure we have our supplies on board."

Zoë handed over a tablet. Mal stared at it for a moment, then grabbed it and swallowed it.

"Better, sir?"

"Nope," Mal said more cheerfully, and stomped back to his bunk.

* * *

Jayne clambered out of his bunk and made his way to the galley for breafast. Wash and Kaylee were already there.

"Didn't hear ya come in last night," Wash said cheerily. "How was your night of booze and whores? Tell me there were booze and whores, please, or my faith in humanity will shatter and disappear."

Jayne grunted. "Nope," he said, grabbing a mug of coffee and a bowl of something grey and mushy.

Wash gaped. "No booze? No whores? Jayne, promise me you're off out to get tanked and laid! I don't want to be stuck out in the black with you when you finally snap!"

Kaylee laughed. "He's just funnin', ain't ya, Jayne?"

"All right, there was booze. Just not all that much o' it."

"See, I knew you was just funnin'." Kaylee beamed.

"From that grin, I'm guessin' you 'n' the Doc had a busy day yesterday," Jayne leered.

"No!" Kaylee blushed, then swatted at him.

Jayne laughed, and finished shovelling in his mush. "This stuff just keeps on gettin' better," he said sardonically, and dumped the bowl in the sink.

"You're in a hurry," Wash said, eyebrows raised. "Got some special place to be?"

"Nah, just fixin' ta spend as much time as possible off out o' here 'fore I'm stuck with only lookin' at you fer fun." Jayne grinned, drained his coffee and left.

Wash looked across at Kaylee. "He's up to something."

"He ain't gonna snap an' push us all out an airlock, Wash!" Kaylee protested.

"You're sure about that? Because Jayne passing on getting laid? That means the laws of physics have stopped working. The natural order has been overturned!"

"Wash! There's gotta be some good reason fer it." She pinked at a sudden thought. "Maybe he's met someone? Oh, I hope he's met someone! That'd be so shiny!"

"You think? If he's met someone, and that's a very big if, she's probably got muscles larger than my head and weaponry hidden in places I don't ever want to know about."

"What don't you want to know about?" Zoë asked, coming into the galley and sitting down beside him.

"Jayne's new someone," Kaylee said, leaning forwards with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Husband? Want to enlighten me?" Zoë asked, one eyebrow raised.

"The someone he must have, since he didn't apparently didn't go and find any ladies of negotiable affection yesterday."

"Didn't even get that drunk," Kaylee added. "It must be love!"

"I... see. So because Jayne's acting a mite better than a bottom-crawler, you're sayin' he has to have a girlfriend? Just so we're clear."

"Who has a girlfriend?" Simon asked, coming into the galley with River in tow.

"Jayne!" Kaylee beamed.

River rolled her eyes. "Things aren't always as straightforward as they seem. Equations balance, but not all the variables are shown. Not a girlfriend."

Watching them from the doorway, Mal cleared his throat. Ignoring Kaylee's squeak, he said, "Ain't y'all got better things to do than speculate on Jayne's sex-life? An' I was thinkin' there was all kinds o' fun ta be had here."

"But that's just it, Mal!" Wash leaned forward excitedly. "Jayne's not the type to pass up on fun! We've been here almost twenty-four hours, and he hasn't got drunk, had a fight or got laid."

"I'm going to have to insist he comes to the infirmary," Simon said. "He could be coming down with something."

"_Bìzuĭ_! Enough about Jayne! Zoë, take this." He tossed her a small pouch. "You've a list?"

"Yes, sir. Goin' shortly, sir."

"An' the rest of you! Go, have fun." Scowling, he stalked through the galley and off to the cargo bay.

"That was cheery," Simon said, staring after him.

"Maybe it's not just Jayne who needs to get laid," Wash said thoughtfully.

Kaylee turned bright pink and started coughing.

"Are you all right?" Simon asked anxiously, handing her a mug of water.

"Yup," she squeaked, glancing up at him, then away. She met Zoë's gaze, and managed a weak smile.

* * *

Leaving the galley, Zoë caught up with Kaylee as she opened the hatch to her bunk. "Mind if I have a word?" the taller woman asked quietly.

"Sure! Come on in," Kaylee chirped. She climbed down her ladder, closely followed by Zoë.

"What can I do for ya?"

"It's more what you've noticed," Zoë said.

"I don't follow," Kaylee said, busying herself getting ready to head out to the Bazaar.

"Jayne. The Captain."

Kaylee took a deep breath, and looked round at Zoë. "I seen the Cap'n lookin' at Jayne like he used ta look at 'Nara. When we was on Greenleaf, an' me'n' Jayne got parts? I might'a' mentioned it ta him. Weren't wrong, were it, Zoë?"

Zoë smiled slowly. "Might not have been at that, Kaylee. How did Jayne take it?"

"He were more curious, I guess," Kaylee said. "Ya know, if Mal weren't out with us, and Jayne weren't off doin' his usual, ya think somethin' might'a' happened? Twixt the Cap'n 'n' Jayne?"

"I ain't speculatin'," Zoë said. "As I recall, we had orders on that point." She smiled. "Sure am hopin' so, though."

The women looked at each other. Kaylee clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from giggling.

"Best not be mentionin' it," Zoë warned. "Knowin' the Cap'n an' Jayne, both stubborn-headed as they come, the others get to hear, an' ain't nothin' ever goin' to come of it."

Kaylee nodded, wide-eyed. "Won't say a word, I promise, Zoë. Oh! It'd be so shiny!" She sighed, clasping her hands to her chest.

Zoë looked hard at her.

"Promise!"

"All right, then."

* * *

Mal strode out through the Bazaar, which was busy again despite the early hour. He had his own shopping to do, and he passed through the stalls, looking for the ones he needed. As he haggled, his mind kept turning back to the book of sonnets. What was Jayne thinking, giving him a present like that? And more to the point, where had he got the coin for it? At least he knew the mercenary was willing - more than - to grapple with him. But for all he wanted to, Mal wasn't sure he should.

A couple of hours later, arms full of packages, Mal made his way back to the ship, no nearer a decision than he'd been last night.

* * *

Jayne wandered round the Bazaar for a while. He bought a couple of little bits to send back to his Ma an' Mattie, picked up a pink scarf for Kaylee's next birthday, and leafed through a couple of magazines. He was more taken with the guns than the porn, an' that, he reflected, was a sorry state of affairs. Eventually he retreated to a quiet bar, where he sat in a corner and nursed a beer.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, the crew was mostly all back aboard _Serenity_. Mal, paperwork spread over the galley table, watched them come in. Not that he was waitin' on Jayne comin' back. But somehow the blasted paperwork just took twice as long as usual, an' he'd only just finished by the time Zoë called him down to the cargo bay to help bring in their supplies.

"Could do with Jayne giving a hand, sir," she said, hefting a crate up the ramp.

"Ain't back yet," Mal said, passing her to fetch another crate.

"Couldn't help hearin' the speculation this mornin', sir," Zoë noted, setting the crate down in a corner and waiting for Mal to put his down.

"Distinctly recall sayin' no speculatin'," Mal said, not bothering to pretend he didn't know what Zoë was referring to.

"Sir. Couldn't help wondering if maybe there weren't some truth in it," Zoë said carefully.

"Jayne with a girlfriend? Reckon anythin's possible in the 'Verse," Mal agreed, plastering on a smile and turning to go fetch another crate.

Zoë stepped in front of him. "Weren't meaning a girlfriend, sir."

"Didn't reckon you were. But this here, this'd be speculation." Mal stepped around her.

She waited until he brought another crate on board, then tried again.

"Mean to say, sir, he ain't one to pass up the chance for a spot o' trouble an' a rut, to be blunt. Gotta be a reason for that, sir. Mayhap he's lookin' to you."

"Ain't none o' your business, Zoë," Mal warned.

"No, sir. It ain't. But you ain't exactly a picture of happy this mornin'. An' if you ain't goin' ta see what's between you, well, Jayne ain't one to take well to disappointment, if you catch my drift. Sir."

"That I do, Zoë. An' it still ain't none o' your business, so why're we still discussin' it?" Mal's voice was hard.

"Because I don't want it to become my business, sir. We got us a couple o' weeks' burn. Can be an awful long time."

Warning delivered, Zoë went to fetch the last crate leaving Mal to scowl at the stack in front of him.

* * *

Kaylee, Simon and River came in at dinnertime. Simon went straight to the infirmary to inventory his new supplies and Kaylee and River set about preparing dinner.

By seven, dinner was over and cleared away. Kaylee was down in the engine room checking over everything, making sure _Serenity_ was ready to lift off. Simon was back in the infirmary. Wash had his flight plan prepared and, his checks completed, was playing with his dinosaurs while Zoë watched, smiling softly. River danced through the cargo bay, then set to drawing in the galley.

Everyone was ready to go.

Mal paced through the corridors. "No sign o' Jayne yet?" he asked, popping his head round the cockpit door.

Zoë shook her head.

"Let me know when he's aboard. Might as well leave when he gets here. No sense in hangin' around."

"What if he's late?" Wash asked.

Mal's expression hardened. "Then we go at ten, just like I said." He went back to pacing.

"Wife, if you knew what this... thing... is between Jayne and Mal, you'd tell me, right?" Wash asked. "I mean, it looks like Jayne's gone and done something to annoy Mal again, but I can't figure it out, and neither of them are saying." He looked across at Zoë, eyes beseeching. "You know how much it bugs me, not knowing!"

Zoë smiled. "I know how much it bugs you, husband. Sometimes, I find it's best not to ask."

Wash pouted. "It just isn't fair, them not saying. I mean, how am I meant to irritate Jayne if I don't know what he's been up to?"

"Tell me, husband," Zoë said, moving to sit on the console in front of him. "Are you sure you really want to know everything Jayne gets up to?"

"Well... no," Wash conceded.

"Me neither," Zoë smiled, and leaned forward and kissed him.

* * *

Jayne stood at the edge of the docks and looked across at _Serenity_. She weren't much ta look at, not compared with some ships. But inside that small, battered hull was a large heart. Mayhap Mal weren't talkin' _gŏushĭ_ when he said she ran on love.

The ramp was down, and he could see Mal standin' there, one arm up, just holdin' a strut. Jayne knew he was waitin' fer him. A rush of warmth swept through him at the thought of marchin' up the ramp an' into Mal's arms.

He strolled up to the ship and stopped at the bottom of the ramp.

"Mal," he said, and something indefinable flickered through the captain's eyes.

"Jayne. Got everythin' ya need?" Mal indicated his purchases.

"Yup, reckon so."

"Well get on board, then, so I c'n close up," Mal meant to sound irritated, but his words came out softer than he'd intended. He was actually happy to see Jayne! And there weren't no-one shootin' at him, neither! He shook his head as Jayne marched up the ramp. Now, weren't that somethin'?

As Jayne reached the top, Mal hit the button to close up, and thumbed the intercom. "Wash, take us out."

"Firing up now, Captain!" Wash called back.

In the gloom of the cargo bay, Jayne took a step towards Mal, then another.

"I, uh.." He cleared his throat.

"Yeah?"

"'Bout last night..." Jayne said, uncomfortably.

"Don't worry ' bout it," Mal said, looking down at his boots.

In one swift movement, Jayne bent down and deposited his shopping on the floor, then stood up again and closed the gap between them.

"That's just it, Mal," he said earnestly. "I ain't worried. Just spent all day wantin' ta do this again."

He laid a hand on Mal's shoulder.

Mal looked up, straight into his merc's dark eyes. The fire he saw there made his breath catch. Then Jayne's other hand was cupping the back of his head, fingers tangling in Mal's thick hair. His head moved slowly towards Mal's. Keeping his eyes open, and with a gentleness Mal would never have guessed he possessed, he slid his lips over Mal's.

Mal's eyelids fluttered shut as all his senses focused on the feeling of Jayne's mouth moving against his. Jayne kissed him lightly once, twice, his goatee just brushing against Mal's face. Then he angled his head a little, pressed a little more firmly with his lips, and Mal felt his own lips parting. Jayne's tongue glided inside, tangling with Mal's, and Mal found himself reaching out and sliding his hands round Jayne's neck, holding him close.

Footsteps sounded on the catwalk above. Jayne stepped back hastily, regret clouding his face.

Mal opened his eyes, feeling the same regret. He had to try a couple of times before he could speak.

"Might want to be puttin' your shoppin' away." It came out low, husky. Not at all captainly.

"Uh... Yeah. Guess so." Disappointment coloured Jayne's voice. He bent to pick up his things, then stood up and headed for the steps.

"Jayne," Mal called after him.

Jayne halted. "Yeah, Mal?"

Mal walked towards him. "This ain't over."

With a grin, Jayne headed up. At the top, Zoe waited for him to come past. He could've sworn she winked at him, but when he looked closer, she was as stony-faced as usual.

"We've cleared the SkyPlex, sir. Just thought you might want to know."

Mal cleared his throat. "Thanks. All secure down here." He trotted up the stairs and walked past her, ignoring her look of enquiry, and smiling a little, went up to the cockpit.

* * *

It took a week to reach Harvest. A long week, in which Mal continued to spot for Jayne in the evenings, which led them both to go hard to their bunks. Kaylee developed a habit of turning pink whenever she looked at either of them, especially when they were in the same room together. Wash and Zoë weren't around much after dinner; either they were on duty in the cockpit, or they were in their bunk, and no-one wanted to interrupt. River prowled the ship like a little cat, soft-footed and quick-eared. And Simon made sure the infirmary was clean and tidy, obssessively checked River's charts and meds, and worked on not saying the wrong thing to Kaylee.

Mal bowed out of the games of hoop-ball when he found himself distracted by Jayne's muscles, or his quick grin, or even his leer.

And Jayne? Jayne didn't open the bottle of bourbon he found laid on his bunk. He did find a knife to fit the fine leather sheath that was beside it, though. And weren't his fault he couldn't settle. Sleepin' were a tad problematic, given how close the Cap'n were in his bunk, an' how that's always where Jayne's thoughts strayed as soon as his head hit the pillow. Before, if he were honest. An' he weren't used ta not sleepin'. Had himself a talent fer it.

His girls was all clean. His knives were all sharp and shiny, blades nick-free. The crates 'n the hold didn't need shiftin'. Kaylee didn't have no engine parts ta hold while she welded. So, restless, he padded around the ship; a larger cat with nothin' ta hunt.

Four nights in, he passed River, who was balancing improbably over the drop into the cargo bay.

"Watch yerself," he grunted. "Know y'ain't gonna fall on purpose, but be jus' like yer brother ta blame me if'n ya did."

River regarded him coolly from her pose, then somersaulted back onto the catwalk. "Your assessment has some validity," she said gravely. "Thank you for the ribbons. They help the rainbows to find their pots of gold."

"Yer welcome," Jayne said awkwardly, ignoring the reference to rainbows, but filing the 'pots of gold' part away for later. "Uh... thanks fer not sayin' nothin' ta Mal. He knows," he added, surprising himself. "Tol' him."

River nodded and smiled. "Did you tell him everything?" she asked, her smile turning into a grin.

"Not sure I'm followin', Moony." Jayne crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.

"_I shall know him where he stands, All alone..._" River pirhouetted.

Jayne watched, bemused.

Exasperated, she stopped and stood in front of him on tiptoe. "You could ask him to read to you, boob!" Then, flashing him another smile, she ran off in the direction of the engine room, leaving Jayne to ponder on her words.

The next night, Jayne wandered the ship again. And the next, until with a growl of frustration, he headed to Mal's bunk and, squatting down, knocked on the hatch.

Mal jerked awake. Quickly he threw off his blanket and stuffed his feet into his boots, then opened the hatch. Staring down at him was Jayne.

"Jayne! What's wrong?" he asked in surprise.

Sheepish, Jayne ducked his head and mumbled. "Can't sleep."

"_Shénme_?"

Jayne swallowed and looked Mal in the eye. "Said I can't sleep."

"You want me ta make ya hot milk? Sing to ya?"

Jayne was having a hard time looking away from Mal's shirtless torso. "Uh... I was kinda hopin' ya'd read ta me," he muttered. "Guess I'll jus'... go elsewhere."

Mal sighed. "No, 's all right. Woke me up, is all. Go make some tea. I'll be up in just a minute." He didn't bother pulling the hatch shut, just tugged on a shirt and grabbed his books.

Coming into the galley, he paused in the doorway to button up his shirt. Not to watch Jayne pouring hot water into the teapot and taking it over to the lounge area where two mugs already waited.

"Might 's well sit comfy," Jayne said, taking a seat in one of the larger chairs. Mal joined him.

"Really can't sleep?" Mal asked, looking carefully at Jayne.

"Yeah," the big man admitted.

Mal took in the purple under Jayne's eyes and the downward pull of his mouth. "Guess not, at that. Ain't goin' ta be much use for tomorrow's caper if ya don't get some sleep."

A brief tightening of Jayne's mouth was all the sign he gave that he'd heard.

"Fine. I'll read. Ya want war poems, or sonnets?"

"What's a sonnet?" Jayne asked, curious.

"That book ya got me? Has sonnets in. Poems. By a man from Earth-That-Was, by the name of Shake-speare. Kinda appropriate fer a present from you, dontcha think?" Mal grinned.

Jayne shook his head. "Didn't have much time ta pick," he confessed. "'S I recall, I had ta get back or you'd've left me on Greenleaf."

"Huh. Might've, at that." Mal loosed a brief smile. He opened the book at random. "Here. Try this one."

"_A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,__  
__Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;__  
__A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted__  
__With shifting change, as is false women's fashion:__  
__An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,__  
__Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;__  
__A man in hue all hues in his controlling,__  
__Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.__  
__And for a woman wert thou first created;__  
__Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,__  
__And by addition me of thee defeated,__  
__By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.__  
__But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,__  
__Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure."_

A slow grin spread across Jayne's face. "I ain't sure what all o' them words mean, but I reckon I know what it's 'bout. Yeah, that's appropriate, right enough."

Mal tutted, but couldn't keep the smile from his own face. "That ain't gettin' ta sleep, Jayne."

"Nope. I c'n think of a few things that might help," Jayne said, suggestively.

Mal glanced down at the book. "Don't think that's happenin' tonight, Jayne," he said quietly.

"Maybe not. Weren't my idea, this," Jayne said. "An' I still ain't sure exactly what this is, anyhow."

"So whose idea was it?" Mal asked, putting the book down.

"Kaylee mentioned how ya kept on lookin' at me, an' pushin' at me, like ya did with 'Nara."

"Huh! Sometimes I reckon that li'l mechanic ain't as hung up on Simon an' her engines as she makes out," Mal said drily.

"She just likes things ta be shiny," Jayne said. "Reckon she thinks this, me'n'you'd be real shiny."

"Real shiny," Mal mused. "Ya reckon?"

Jayne thought for a minute, then laughed. "Naw! Too much shavin' ta be shiny!"

Mal found himself laughing along with his merc. "Y'ain't wrong there." There was a pause, then Mal sighed. "What're ya wantin' Jayne? From me, us?"

Jayne shrugged. "I'd be real happy ta get ya in my bunk, Mal, I ain't ashamed ta say. If'n y'ain't up fer that, there're other things we c'n do."

"More kissin'?"

"Heck, yeah."

Mal shook his head. "I thought ya didn't kiss. Not on the mouth, anyhow."

"Never met anyone much I cared ta kiss. Goodnight kiss ain't my idea 'f a good night. Don't leave ya wakin' up happy."

"Yeah..." Mal agreed. "Ain't the best mornin' I ever had."

"Wouldn't be yer way," Jayne said. "I kiss ya an' it ain't wanted? Figure I'll have a wrench in ma face."

"Ain't found a lipstick yet, colour'd suit me," Mal conceded, and Jayne laughed.

"What ya want from me?" Jayne asked.

"Ain't sure," Mal confessed. "Can't help wantin' ya in my bunk, too, but it's a mite more complicated 'n that."

Jayne shook his head. "I keep tellin ya, Mal, it really don't have ta be. C'n I borrow that?"

Mal looked at the book of sonnets in surprise. "Sure." He handed it over.

"Might 's well have somethin' ta look at in ma bunk," Jayne said. "Sorry I woke ya up."

"Don't mind," Mal said. "Come on." He stood up.

Jayne followed him back to their bunks. "'Night, Mal," he said.

Mal put a hand on Jayne's arm. "My bunk's bigger."

Jayne stared at Mal. "You sayin' what I'm thinkin', Mal?" he asked.

"Offerin' company ta help ya sleep. That's all, tonight," Mal said. "An' don't hog the blankets." He kicked open the hatch and climbed down the ladder. With a quick look up and down the corridor, Jayne followed.

Mal sat on his bunk and kicked his boots off, then started unbuttoning his shirt. Jayne stood at the bottom of the ladder and watched.

"Shut the hatch," Mal said.

Jayne pulled it shut. "Uh..."

"Come here," Mal said, and shifted the blanket over.

Sitting down on the bed, Jayne handed the book of sonnets back to Mal, who put it back on the little shelf above the bed.

"Boots. Off," Mal said. "An' any weaponry ya got. Ain't sleepin' with yer girls."

Jayne kicked his boots off, pulled off his socks, and fished out a couple of knives from locations Mal wasn't too sure he wanted to know about. "Okay?" he asked, arms spread.

Mal looked him over. "Yeah." He lifted up the blanket. "You c'n have the inside."

Jayne scooted back, holding up the blanket for Mal.

Mal swung his legs up. "Lie down, Jayne," he ordered, and slapped the light off.

"Yes, sir!" Jayne said, grinning. He stole half the pillow, wrestling it out from under Mal, then wrapped one large arm around the Captain's hips, pulling him close.

"You done?" Mal asked. Jayne couldn't see him in the dark, but Mal sounded amused.

"Yeah," he grinned.

"Sleep well," Mal said, and wriggled himself comfy.

Within minutes, the mercenary was asleep. It'd been a long time since Mal had shared a bed, though, and he wriggled and turned until Jayne's arm tightened around him once more.

"Nngghh shhh..." Jayne murmured, still asleep.

Mal stilled, enjoying the weight of the arm over him and the warmth at his back, and his eyes drifted closed.

* * *

Waking in the morning was... interesting. Mal was laid on his back, one arm flung up over his head. The other was pinned to his side by a very heavy mercenary who was sprawled half-over Mal, face down. Making little snuffling noises. One of his arms lay across Mal's chest, and one leg was bent across his groin, making Mal rapidly aware of two pressing issues. For one, he was uncomfortably hard. And for the other, he really needed to use the head.

"Jayne?" Mal shifted uncomfortably. "You 'wake?"

Jayne snorted and burrowed his face into Mal's neck.

"Jayne!"

"Whu'?" Blearily, Jayne opened an eye, to find himself being watched by blue eyes which seemed to be amused rather than annoyed.

"Hey," Jayne said, a smile spreading across his face. "Yer a mornin' person, then." He moved his leg slightly, and Mal twitched.

"Jayne, I gotta get up," Mal said.

"Ya mean y'aren't?" Jayne asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Funny," Mal grinned. "Got me a pressin' need ta take care of."

"Want me ta help?"

"I got a lake inside me, Jayne," Mal warned.

"It ain't comin' out like that," Jayne pointed out, and his hand moved down from Mal's chest to his pants. With a practiced flick of the fingers, he had Mal's flies open.

"Hey!" Mal yelped, but Jayne's hand snaked around his underpants, and then the merc's warm, calloused fingers wrapped around his _diăo_.

"_Wŏ de mā_!" Mal gripped Jayne's shoulder as his hips bucked under Jayne's hand. Jayne laughed, then leaned forwards and kissed Mal as he gasped.

It didn't take long: Jayne's hand moved skillfully, gripping him firmly and pumping up and down, his thumb brushing the sensitive glans and over the head. Then Mal was coming, calling out hoarsely into Jayne's mouth.

Trembling, Mal rested his forehead against Jayne's.

The merc chuckled. "Bin a while, huh?"

Mal nodded.

Carefully Jayne withdrew his hand from Mal's pants. "Guess ya'd best see ta that pressin' need," he said gruffly, and rolled off Mal's shoulder.

It took a couple of goes, but Mal managed to get his muscles to co-ordinate enough to allow him to sit up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and, wobbling slightly, managed to stand up. He swung out the head and grabbed a handful of tissue, which he threw to Jayne. As the merc wiped his hand down, Mal cleaned himself off with another handful, pushing off his soiled pants and shorts, then attended to his 'pressing need'.

Finished, he kicked the head back into the wall and washed his hands. He turned, to find Jayne watching him, t-shirt off and trousers pushed down, lazily stroking himself.

"Gonna help me out?" Jayne asked.

"Reckon it's only fair," Mal said, and stalked back to the bed. "Might have an inklin' why them whores'r' so fond of ya."

The smug look on Jayne's face only got bigger as Mal leaned over him and kissed him hard, tongue plunging into Jayne's mouth. He ran his hands down Jayne's chest, enjoying the feel of the sculpted muscles, then over the merc's flat stomach. One hand encircled Jayne's _diăo_, while the other cupped his balls. With firm strokes he brought Jayne to the edge, then paused.

"Mal!" the big man writhed, pushing his hips up towards the Captain.

"You want this?" Mal asked. "Want me?"

"_Tā mā de_, yes!" Jayne gasped.

"Sure on that?"

"Yes! Mal, please! Now, gorramit!" Jayne ignored the mischievous glint in Mal's eyes and thrust up towards him again.

With a grin, Mal took hold of Jayne again, and with a couple of strokes pushed him over. The merc came, grunting hard and spurting up his belly and over Mal's hand. When he'd finished and was starting to relax, Mal gently released his softening _diăo_, then stood up and fetched a damp cloth.

Jayne wiped himself clean, then handed the cloth back to Mal, who rinsed it out in the sink.

"Best go get yerself ready," Mal said. "Soon be time ta go do crime."

"Crime? Shiny!" the merc grinned. He buttoned his trousers and pulled on his t-shirt, then stood and shoved his feet into his boots. Collecting his weaponry, he crossed to the ladder, and stopped.

"Mal?"

"Mm?"

"Weren't complicated," he said, and climbed up the ladder and let himself out.

Mal watched him kick the hatch closed, and smiled. "Nope," he said to himself. "Guess it weren't."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** This is Joss Whedon's sandbox. I'm just playing!

They dropped off the mail at the main sorting office, then headed half-way round Harvest to the spice depot.

The crime went well, right up until the last few crates. With Zoë, Mal, Jayne and Simon all humping crates into the cargo bay and River and Kaylee busy in engineering, only Wash spotted the arrival in atmo of Horace Tuttle's real ship, which was quickly followed by the arrival on the ground of men with guns. They didn't bother talking, just started shooting.

Zoë and Simon had just dropped their crates in the bay when the bullets started flying. Simon dived for cover at the side of the bay and Zoë unholstered her Mare's Leg and returned fire.

Jayne, heading out down the ramp, had enough warning to pull out one of his girls and started shooting.

Mal had just picked up a crate and, caught in the open with no cover, could only sprint for the ship, with Jayne and Zoë providing covering fire.

Dashing past Jayne and into the bay, Mal dropped the crate and slapped the button to close up the ramp just as Zoë shouted.

"Sir!"

He whirled in time to see Jayne, on his knees, pitch face-down onto the ramp.

"Jayne!" He and Zoë leaped forwards and dragged the merc off the rapidly-rising ramp and through the closing doors.

Simon raced towards them as the intercom crackled to life.

"Hold on to something, going up!" Wash said, sounding a little stressed. "Everyone all right down there? People?"

Mal ignored him, turning the unconscious man over. His vision narrowed to where red bloomed over Jayne's t-shirt, spreading rapidly from a hole in his chest.

"_Āiyā! Tiān a_!" Mal pressed his hands to the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding.

"Zoë, I need you to go grab the stretcher from the infirmary," Simon said. "Captain? Mal?" When Mal didn't appear to notice, Simon forcibly turned his face towards him.

"Mal! I need you to let go."

Mal shook his head. "Ain't letting him go, Doc." His face was white.

"I can't help him if you don't, Mal," Simon said calmly. "I need you to move back."

With a clatter, River dashed up to them and dropped a bag beside Simon. Opening it, he tore open a pack and pulled out a large sterile dressing. With an effort, Mal lifted his hands away, and Simon slapped the dressing on the wound.

Jayne gave a little cough, and flecks of blood appeared, staining his lips.

"Doc!"

"I know, Mal! Where's that stretcher?"

"Hey, anyone down there?" Wash called over the intercom.

River answered. "Jayne does not look better in red," she said sadly.

"_Wŏ de mā hé tā de fēnkuáng de wàisheng dōu_! We're nearly out of atmo, Mal. Going for burn as soon as!" Wash said, then called down to engineering.

"Kaylee! Get ready for burn."

Kaylee came back over the intercom. "What's wrong, Wash?"

"Jayne's hurt," the pilot said, coaxing _Serenity_ out into the black. "And we have company." As soon as they were clear of the planet, he opened up and let the Firefly run.

* * *

With Simon holding the dressing in place, Mal and Zoë rolled Jayne onto the stretcher. Mal didn't much recall how they got to the infirmary, only that as they slid Jayne off the stretcher and onto the bed, he coughed again and stopped breathing. Things got very busy right around then, with Simon ordering him and Zoë around. He was going to remind the Doc that he was the Captain, but he couldn't seem to get the words out.

He remembered little things, like Jayne's yellow t-shirt, now more red, cut into rags and dropped on the floor.

The Doc sticking a shunt in Jayne's side and the bag filling with blood far too fast.

The blue tinge around Jayne's lips.

Zoë standing in front of him, moving him out of the infirmary.

Jayne's blood washing off his hands. He had an absurd urge to catch it in a bowl, take it down to the infirmary and demand Simon put it back in Jayne, where it belonged.

Kaylee came up behind him as he stood in the galley watching the blood swirl round the sink.

"Cap'n? How's Jayne doin'?" she asked.

Mal blinked. He found his voice at last. He was amazed at how steady it was.

"Ain't sure. Doc's workin' on him now." He shut off the water and dried his hands, then turned.

Kaylee gasped. "Cap'n! You hurt?"

Mal looked down at himself in surprise. His shirt and trousers had blood smeared down them. He cleared his throat a couple of times, then managed a quick, tight smile.

"Ain't mine." Gritting his teeth, he left the galley.

Mal paused by his bunk. He knew he should get changed, but in his head, Jayne was still in there, lying on the bed grinning, watching Mal with lust in his eyes. If he opened the hatch, Jayne would be only be lying in the infirmary, his life in Simon's hands. He took a deep breath, then another, and went up to the cockpit instead.

"Mal!" Wash looked round, alarmed. "_Tiān xiăodé_! Jayne's not..."

"No," Mal said, quickly. "Doc's got him. We good?"

"Yeah, I managed to ditch our company. We're on course back to Greenleaf, should be there in just over a week."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Concerned, Wash kept glancing over at Mal. At length, he spoke up.

"Are you okay, Captain?" When Mal didn't reply, he continued. "I don't mean to be blunt, but you look like crap. And I know you've had more practise at getting blood out of clothes than I have, but shouldn't you go change, put those to soak?"

Tactfully, Wash busied himself with the controls, rather than staring at Mal outright.

Mal gazed out of the windshield for a long moment before scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Yeah," he said, and got up and left.

He wandered through the ship until he found himself outside the infirmary. Simon was still working. He saw Zoë, her back to him, standing patiently at the Doctor's elbow, blocking Mal's view of anything more than Jayne's feet. Not wanting to see more, Mal sank down on the sofa and settled in to wait. After a little while, River crept out of the shadows and sat with him.

* * *

Wash stayed with the controls, keeping watch for any signs of pursuit. Kaylee joined him, curling up in the co-pilot's chair.

"Did you see Mal?" Wash asked quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen him look that bad."

Kaylee nodded, hugging her knees. "I went down ta check on Jayne, but Simon ain't lettin' anyone in." She bit her lip. "When he turned, an' there was so much blood all down him, looked like he'd been shot too, Wash. He were so pale!"

Wash shook his head. "This isn't like Mal. He loves a good shoot-out, makes him all gung-ho. But this was like... like someone died."

"Don't you say that, Wash!" Kaylee said, mouth trembling. "Jayne ain't dead! He can't die!"

"I didn't mean..." Wash tried again. "Jayne's pretty indestructable. He'll pull through, I'm sure. Especially with our very own Core-trained trauma surgeon on board. Any minute now, Simon'll call up to let us know he's going to be fine and Jayne'll be complaining how he isn't allowed to lift weights for a week."

Kaylee managed a feeble smile. "You think so, Wash?"

"Yeah." Wash put on his best comforting grin. "Hey, I bet tea would be good right now."

"I'll go put the kettle on," Kaylee said, brightening. She uncurled and hurried to the galley.

* * *

It was nearly four hours later when Simon stepped out of the infirmary. Mal still sat on the sofa, flanked by Kaylee and River, all of them silent. Mugs of tea sat on the floor, one finished, one half-drunk, one untouched.

At the sound of the door opening, Mal looked round slowly, as though the effort of turning his head was almost too much.

Zoë stepped out around Simon, and without a word headed up the stairs.

"He's stable," Simon said, fatigue showing in the tightness at the corners of his eyes and mouth. "At least for now. I've repaired most of the damage to his lung and chest. He lost a lot of blood, and we'll need to restock supplies as soon as possible, but he should be fine."

Mal stood, careful not to jar River and Kaylee. "I'll stay with him," he said, and walked towards the Doctor.

Simon put up a hand. "That isn't necessary. He's still unconscious. I'll stay with him until I'm certain he won't relapse."

"Might not want ta go thinkin' it's a request," Mal said firmly. "Be grateful if you'd be lettin' me see my merc."

Simon looked at him for a moment, then stood aside. "Be my guest," he said sardonically.

Mal ignored him and stepped inside.

* * *

Jayne lay still and silent on the bed. He was pale beneath his habitual tan, and the dark hair on his arms and stomach stood out in stark contrast. Two bags dripped their contents into one arm. His eyes looked bruised, and an oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose. Most of his chest was covered with fresh white bandages.

Mal forced himself to move to Jayne's side. Carefully, delicately, he smoothed the hair off Jayne's forehead, then took his hand.

"C'n he hear me?" he asked, not looking up.

Simon was standing in the doorway, watching. He blinked, gathered himself and said, "No. Not yet. Another two hours, maybe longer."

"I'll wait."

The infirmary was a mess. A sterile drape was discarded in the corner. The tray of instruments lay on the counter. Half-open drawers displayed contents disarrayed from Zoë and Simon's frantic searches.

With a sigh, Simon opened a cupboard and pulled out a blanket. He handed it to Mal.

"Just cover him up to his waist. I want to be able to see if he starts bleeding again."

Kaylee stood in the doorway, taking in everything with large, dark eyes.

"Anythin' I c'n do ta help, Simon?" she asked tentatively.

Simon shrugged. "I have to clean up in here, but that shouldn't take long. We could all use something to eat, though. I'm sorry, I can't remember who's turn it is to cook."

"Don't matter none today," Kaylee said. "I'll whip up somethin'. Come on, River, you c'n help." She held her hand out to the girl who was standing watching through the window.

"No complications," she said, and Mal stared at her.

"No, _mèi mei_," Simon said, misunderstanding. "There aren't any complications that I can see. It was just a little tricky."

Mal watched her follow Kaylee upstairs, then looked back at Jayne.

"Sure feels complicated," he murmured.

* * *

When the infirmary was clean and tidy, blood scrubbed from the floor and the autoclave humming in the corner, Simon fetched Mal a stool to sit on, then leaned back against the counter.

"He's strong."

Startled, Mal looked up to find Simon watching him with clear grey eyes.

"_Shénme_?"

"Jayne. He has a remarkable constitution. If previous gunshot wounds are anything to go by, he'll be up and disregarding my advice very soon." He paused, then continued, hesitantly.

"Captain, for what it's worth, I may not understand the attraction, but I'm happy for you."

He pushed himself away from the counter. "If you will excuse me, I'm going to go and get changed, then have something to eat. Let me know if there's any change. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Huh," Mal said, watching him go. "Guess it ain't just the one Tam as is perceptive."

* * *

Zoë discarded her bloodstained clothes as quickly as possible and scrubbed until all of Jayne's blood was off her. She piled her clothes in the sink and left them soaking, then pulled on clean trousers and a top. Finally feeling as clean as she was going to get, she went to find her husband.

Wash was still in the cockpit, cradling his Allosaurus. At the sight of his wife, a relieved smile spread across his face, and he held out his arms.

Zoë settled onto his knees, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Wash held her in silence for a little while, then she pulled back a little and kissed him.

"How's Jayne?" Wash asked a few minutes later, resting his cheek against his wife's.

"He'll live," Zoë said. "Doc nearly lost him a couple o' times."

Wash winced. "Ouch! What happened?"

"Got shot through the lung." Zoë stated baldly.

"_Tiān a_!" Wash gasped. "I had no idea! No-one tells me anything," he said plaintively.

"Tellin' you as soon as I could, husband mine." She sighed tiredly. "Simon needed someone to help operate."

"I saw Mal," Wash said, pulling back so he could look Zoë in the eyes. "He looked..."

Zoë nodded. "I know." She didn't say anything more, but Wash read something in her eyes.

"Gods help us all, he's in love with Jayne, isn't he?" Wash didn't sound surprised.

"It ain't for me to say," Zoë said.

"You don't need to," Wash said, stroking her hair. "I remember that look."

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That's pretty much how I felt. When the compression coil blew." Wash went quiet, remembering how desperately afraid he'd been when his wife had taken the brunt of the explosion.

He hugged her close, and she let him.

* * *

River set out plates and cutlery as Kaylee hurriedly opened packets and put water on to boil.

"I'm so glad Jayne's goin' ta be okay, ain't you, River?" Kaylee chattered. "Simon's such a good doctor! We're real lucky to have him on Serenity. You too, o'course! The Cap'n looked so awful, I thought Jayne were goin' ta... Well, he ain't, an' I'm real glad."

She looked across at River, who was standing staring at the cutlery still in her hand.

"Are you okay, sweetie? There were a lot o' blood, I know. But Jayne's a big guy. He'll be fine."

River smiled and finished setting the table.

"I know. Simon is very good at fixing people. Other people," she qualified. "It's just such a big feeling that there is very little room to process anything else."

"What is, sweetie?" Kaylee asked, confused. "You ain't scared, are ya?"

"No! Love." River said, balancing on one foot and stretching out the other leg behind her.

Kaylee frowned, worried. "Yer... in love?"

River laughed. "Not me, the Captain!" She twirled around the galley singing.

"_I shall find my love - the one Born for me_!"

Kaylee watched her uncertainly for a minute, then a hissing from the pan had her grabbing for the wooden spoon and stirring frantically.

* * *

Simon paused in the doorway watching his two favourite women in action. Kaylee had a smear of protein powder across her cheek rather than grease, but looked adorable for all that. And River, he was very relieved to see, appeared not only unbothered by the events of the afternoon, but was positively happy.

"How's dinner coming along?" he asked, smiling.

"Simon!" Kaylee dropped the spoon and beamed at him. "Ain't gonna be more'n a couple minutes more. Ya must be exhausted!"

"I am a bit tired," Simon confessed. "I don't want to be away for long. I don't anticipate there being any problems, and Mal's keeping a good eye on him, but I'd like to get back to my patient just in case."

"Oh, o' course," Kaylee said, a little crestfallen. "I c'n bring ya somethin' down as soon as it's done, if ya'd like? Ain't no bother."

"I think I can be away long enough to sit and eat at the table with you both," Simon said with a grin. "I'm going to fetch the Captain a change of clothing first, though. I'm not sure he's going to be leaving Jayne's side any time soon."

Kaylee gave him a sharp look. "You know?" she asked.

Simon nodded. "I figured it out, yes. I'm not always a complete imbecile." He smiled.

"I didn't mean..."

"Only sometimes," River chimed in, laughing.

"Oh," Kaylee said, and smiled too.

* * *

Simon climbed down into Mal's bunk. He glanced around, taking in the rumpled sheets and the soiled clothes in the corner. Those aside, it was almost as tidy as Simon's infirmary. He fished in a couple of lockers until he found clean clothes, then pulled out trousers and a shirt. He turned to leave, but a couple of books on the shelf by the bed caught his eye. He reached over and picked them up, glancing at their spines.

"_Shakespeare's Sonnets_ and _War Poems_! Looks like Mal got his book back, then." He bundled them up with the clothes and headed back up the ladder.

* * *

Wash and Zoë joined them for dinner. Simon stayed a few minutes longer than planned, enjoying the company, but he still cleared his plate well before the others. They kept the talk light, avoiding discussing the afternoon's events, and Simon was grateful.

He stood and put his plate in the sink.

"Thank you, Kaylee," he said, picking up the bundle of clothing in one hand and a plate of food in the other. "That was lovely. I'll take this down to the Captain."

"Welcome," Kaylee smiled. "Make sure he eats, will ya? Don't think he had anythin' earlier neither."

"I'll do my best," Simon said gravely, and went down to the infirmary.

As soon as he'd left the galley, Wash looked round the table. "So," he said jovially. "Mal and Jayne! Who'd have thought it?"

Zoë and Kaylee exchanged glances. River burst into giggles.

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you all knew?" Wash protested. When they refused to say anything, he groaned. "At least tell me Simon didn't know!"

River nodded. "He also was unaware."

Kaylee leaned across and patted Wash's arm. "Don't take it too hard, Wash! I reckon the Cap'n weren't too sure hisself what were goin' on. An' I know Jayne didn't, leastways not 'til after Greenleaf."

"So is there anything else I don't know about?"

"Almost certainly, husband mine. But if there is, I don't know about it either." Zoë smiled and took his hand.

* * *

Simon trotted down the stairs and into the infirmary, where Mal was still sitting, holding Jayne's hand.

"I take it there hasn't been any change?" Simon asked, putting the bundle and the plate down on the counter. Quickly he checked Jayne's vital signs.

"Nope." Mal shifted on the stool. "Been gone more'n ten minutes, Doc."

Simon nodded. "And I believe you'd have called me if Jayne's condition had changed in those extra few minutes."

"An' if it had, and I hadn't noticed?" Mal asked, a dangerous tone creeping into his voice.

"Then any one of a dozen alarms would have gone off," Simon said patiently. "There's a plate of food for you. Kaylee requested I make you eat it."

"Ain't hungry," Mal said grumpily.

"Then you can tell her that. I don't think I'm up to disappointing her today. I also brought you some clothes, and I'd prefer it if you changed into them. I like to keep my infirmary clean. It reduces the risk of unnecessary infection." Simon said.

"You went in my bunk?" The dangerous tone was back.

"Yes, Mal. I went in your bunk and in the fifteen minutes I was away and also eating and getting washed and changed, I took the time to rifle through your personal effects and read your diary. Now either get changed and eat, or get out of my infirmary before I have to get the rest of the crew to come and help me make you leave. And I really don't want to have to add mutiny to my list of accomplishments for the day. I'd like to stick at crime, surgery and snooping."

He turned away and picked up a clipboard and began to inventory supply levels.

Mal stared at the young doctor, all the fight leaving him. Gently he let go of Jayne's hand, stood up and started to unbutton his shirt.

"You got quite a mouth on ya," he commented, dropping the shirt to the floor and untying his boots. He unbuttoned his trousers, keeping his mind resolutely off Jayne doing that for him this morning. Unrolling the bundle, the books dropped onto the counter, and Mal stilled.

Simon glanced over his shoulder. "Captain? Is everything all right?"

"What? Oh, yeah..." Clumsily, Mal tugged on his clean trousers and pulled on his shirt, fumbling with the buttons.

"I thought you might want your book to read, and the _Sonnets_ was with it. I'm sorry if I should have left them alone. I just wish you had told me River returned it." Simon frowned.

"No, no, that's fine. I, uh... Jayne had it," Mal explained lamely.

Simon cocked his head and stared at the Captain. "Wait, Jayne had it? Your book of poetry? This Jayne?"

Feeling surprisingly defensive, Mal kicked his feet into his boots and scowled. "Yeah, this Jayne, that book. He ain't illiterate."

Surprised, Simon set down his clipboard. "I never meant to imply he was. He just doesn't strike me as a lover of poetry."

"With that kind o' attitude, ain't surprised he didn't 'fess up ta havin' it," Mal said. He took the plate and ate a forkful of something greenish.

Simon scratched his head. "No, I suppose not. This is turning out to be quite the day for revelations. I'm beginning to think I don't know Jayne at all. He's quite the man of mystery."

"Man's entitled to his secrets," Mal said and took another forkful of mush.

Simon nodded. "If it wouldn't be an imposition," he said cautiously, "when you're done eating, of course, I'd be very grateful if you would read some of the poems. It gets very tedious taking inventory, and I'm certain at some point Jayne will be able to hear you."

Mal looked hard at him, making sure he wasn't being facetious. "All right, Doc. Ain't too sure of the selection, though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I ain't too fond of poems about bullets right now my own self, and the sonnets is a bit... personal."

"Oh." Simon thought for a moment. "I have a few small volumes of poetry in my room. I'll fetch them in."

* * *

Zoë came down to the infirmary a while later. Simon, white-coated, was leaning against the counter listening as Mal, sitting beside Jayne, read aloud from a book.

_At the Mid Hour of Night__At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly __  
__To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; __  
__And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, __  
__To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, __  
__And tell me our love is remember'd, even in the sky. __Then I sing the wild song 'twas once such pleasure to hear! __  
__When our voices commingling breathed, like one, on the ear; __  
__And, as Echo far off through the vale my said orison rolls, __  
__I think, oh my love! 'tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls,__  
__Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear. _

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, taking in the scene. Mal looked up and saw her, though, and beckoned her in.

"No need ta stop out there, Zo'."

She walked forward and into the brightly-lit infirmary. "Sir." She nodded to him and Simon.

"He's doing okay," Simon said. "Jayne should be coming round any time now."

Mal looked at her, and she nodded.

"I'll take this, then," she said, and reached for Mal's empty plate. "Kaylee's contemplating making cake."

Simon's eyes widened in alarm.

"No cake!" Mal said, hurriedly.

"Not sure I can stop her, sir," Zoë said drily.

"Tell Kaylee we'll get proper ingredients on Greenleaf, make real cake."

Zoë's lips twitched. "That might do it."

"Unnhh..."

They froze, staring at Jayne. Then Simon hurried forward, taking a light out of his pocket. He lifted Jayne's eyelids one at a time, flicking the light across them.

"Jayne? How are you feeling?" Simon asked.

Mal's grip tightened on Jayne's hand as the big man swallowed a couple of times and opened his eyes a crack.

"There... cake?" Jayne croaked.

"Hah!" Air rushed explosively from Mal's lungs. If he hadn't been sitting down already, he reckoned he would be by now.

"No, there's no cake," Simon said, taking Jayne's pulse.

The smallest of pouts crossed Jayne's face. "... shame..."

"We'll get ya cake just's soon's yer up ta eatin' it." Mal promised.

"Feels like... horse kicked me... inna chest..." Jayne managed. "Can't quite... catch ma breath..."

Simon nodded. "You were shot through the lung, Jayne. You're lucky to be alive. It's going to hurt for a while. If you start feeling very short of breath or if the pain increases, I need you to tell me."

Jayne nodded weakly. "... Mal?"

Mal squeezed his hand. "I'm here, Jayne. Ain't goin' nowhere."

"Good." Jayne's eyes closed, and the rasp of his breathing filled the room.

"Jayne?" Mal asked, anxiously.

Simon finished writing on Jayne's notes, and looked across to where Mal sat. "He's asleep. It's the best thing for him right now. You could do with some too."

Relief flooded across Mal's face, and he shook his head. "Told ya, Doc. I ain't leavin'."

Simon nodded. "Very well. Zoë, would you kindly help me make up a cot for our obstinate Captain?"

"With pleasure," Zoë said. "Be right back." She took the dirty plate and Mal's stained clothing away, returning a minute later with an armful of blankets.

* * *

Simon woke on the hour, every hour to check on his patient. He wasn't sure how much sleep Mal got, but several times he woke to the sound of Mal quietly reading poetry to the merc.

In the morning, Jayne's colour had improved, and he woke for the best part of an hour before drifting back to sleep again.

By the afternoon, Jayne was looking remarkably close to normal, and he stayed awake listening to the talk as people came in and out of the infirmary.

* * *

Two days later, Jayne was feeling well enough to start complaining.

"This bed's a pice of _gŏushĭ_, Doc!" he groused. "An' I'm gonna go _fēngle_ if'n I don't see somethin' other'n these walls."

"And here I thought you liked these walls, given the number of times you end up in my infirmary," Simon teased.

Mal came in and raised an eyebrow. "Someone feelin' a mite better?" he asked.

"Mal! I gotta get outta here!" Jayne complained. "Ain't no privacy, 'n' this bed's harder than the gorramn floor."

"I'd be happier keeping you in here for at least another two or three days," Simon said.

Mal perched on the edge of the bed. "The man needs his privacy, Doc. Ain't gonna think on what he wants to do with it, mind."

Simon shuddered. "Right now he isn't going to do anything with it, other than eat and sleep. Jayne, may I remind you that you were shot? Your lung collapsed. You nearly died. Twice."

Jayne pouted.

"Tell ya what," Mal sighed, resting a hand on Jayne's thigh. "How 'bout ya put up with the infirmary fer today, an' tomorrow we'll get ya settled into a passenger bunk."

"How 'bout we make it tonight?" Jayne asked suggestively.

Mal laughed. "If we make it tonight, all you're doin' is sleepin'."

"And that'll be all you do for quite some time," Simon said firmly. "We'll see."

* * *

That evening, with much complaining, Mal, Simon, Wash and Zoë carried Jayne across from the infirmary into the nearest unoccupied passenger room, while Kaylee and River watched. Simon fussed around setting up Jayne's drip and made sure his stitches were intact, before finally reluctantly leaving.

"I'm right next door if he needs me, Mal. Make sure you check on him during the night."

"Yeah, Doc, sure thing," Mal said, closing the door behind him. He moved over to sit in the chair beside the bed while Jayne wriggled and shifted until he got as comfy as he was going to get.

"You need anythin'?" Mal asked.

Jayne shook his head. "Jus' glad ta be outta that fishbowl. He looked across at the Captain. "Ain't needin' a nursemaid, yanno. Ya don' haveta stay the entire time."

Mal shook his head. "Promised I weren't goin' nowhere, Jayne. Be just like you ta relapse the minute I head out, an' I'm tired o' givin' Simon excuses ta shout at me."

Jayne grinned. "Couldn' relapse all that much, Mal. Ain't no fun if I ain't awake ta hear him yell."

"Guess there is that." Mal smiled and reached out a hand. Jayne moved his so that their fingers brushed, and they sat in silence for a spell.

"Well, this is cosy," Jayne said. "I'm bored. If yer stickin' around, might's well keep me entertained."

Mal laughed. "What're you suggestin'? I ain't doin' nothin' against doctor's orders."

Jayne rolled his eyes. "I ain't happy admittin' it, but I ain't up fer nothin' like that. Don't seem right, spendin' all this time in bed without gettin' no action."

"How 'bout cards, then?" Mal reached back and snagged a pack from the table.

Half a dozen hands later, Jayne yawned.

"Lights out," Mal said, gathering the cards together.

"Where ya sleepin'?" Jayne asked.

"Right here," Mal said.

"Aw, hell, Mal. Y'ain't sleepin' in no chair. Ya even seen yer bunk the past few days?"

Mal set his jaw stubbornly. "Told ya, I ain't goin' nowhere."

Jayne grinned. "In that case, ya c'n either set up a cot here, or ya c'n come keep me warm." When Mal hesitated, he added, "Know which I'd prefer."

"Jayne... I don't wanna hurt ya."

"Heck, if'n ya do, I'll holler."

Mal kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his shirt. "Fine. But if you hog the blankets I'll do some hollerin' of my own."

Carefully he crawled into bed and lay on his side. "You need anythin', I'm right here."

Sleepily, Jayne reached out a hand, fumbling for Mal's. Hands clasped, Jayne smiled and fell asleep.

Mal lay awake a lot longer, listening to the sound of the big man breathe. He didn't like the rasp he heard, but Simon assured him Jayne was healing well. Still, it was the small hours of the morning when he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Offloading the spices went a lot smoother, although without Jayne to help, it also took a lot longer. Mal and Zoë collected the cash without having to offer any violent incentives, and managed to pick up some of the medical supplies Simon wanted, along with...

"Eggs! Real eggs!" Kaylee beamed.

"You'd think she laid them herself," Wash muttered.

"Shiny! I'm gonna make such a nice cake," Kaylee said happily.

"Can't wait," Mal smiled. "You might wanna wait 'till we're offworld, though. I want you in the engine room for take-off."

"_Xiè xie_, Cap'n!"

"Wash, take us up in ten." Mal left her putting things away and headed down to the passenger dorm.

Shirtless, Jayne was sprawled on the bed reading. He looked up as Mal clattered down the stairs and into the room.

"All go well?" he asked.

Mal paused in the doorway to admire him. Under Simon's care, the bandages covering his chest had reduced to a single large dressing covered in tape.

"Yeah, all good."

"Got my cut?"

"Hah! Yeah, I got it. Figured ya might wanta contribute to replacin' some o' those bandages you keep on usin'."

"Ya did, huh?" Jayne scowled. "I figure it's yer fault I keep gettin' shot, so ya c'n pay fer the bandages yerself."

Mal couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Laughing, he came into the room and sat down in the chair.

"Gotcha."

"Ha ha. Almost as funny as Wash."

The thrusters fired, and Jayne looked at Mal.

"Where we off ta?"

"Space Bazaar. Be there'n a couple days. See if we got any mail."

Jayne grunted, and looked down at the book he held.

"Still readin' them war poems, huh? Looks like a little learnin's had an effect," Mal said.

"Yeah, an' ya should see ma weapons maint'nance, too."

"Reckon I wouldn't mind seein' that," Mal grinned.

Jayne looked up and closed the book. "Well heck, Mal, why'n't ya say?" He flicked open the button on his trousers and leered.

Mal closed the door. Then locked it.

Kneeling down beside the bed, he leaned forward to kiss Jayne, enjoying the feeling of the merc's goatee against his jaw. He deepened the kiss, but when Jayne pushed up towards him, he put a hand on the merc's good shoulder and pushed him gently back down.

"Nuh-uh. Simon'll start yellin' if ya pull any stitches."

"That mean I haveta jus' lie here?" Jayne asked.

"That means you have to just lie there," Mal confirmed.

"Shiny!"

Jayne lay back as Mal kissed him again. Mal's hand slid down Jayne's stomach to his waistband, and his calloused fingertips dipped underneath once, then again. The merc wiggled his hips, and through their kiss he could feel Mal smiling.

"Stay. Down." Mal punctuated his warning by dipping his fingers further beneath Jayne's waistband.

"Bits o' me - ain't - listenin'" Jayne said, kissing Mal.

"I'll just - have ta - tell 'em again." Mal kissed him back. Slowly he undid Jayne's flies and stopped kissing the merc long enough to pull his trousers down to his knees. To his complete lack of surprise, the merc was going commando.

Turned out, Jayne was right. Bits o' him weren't listenin'. Mal grinned and licked his lips.

"Sure you're up fer this?" he asked.

"Stop, an' I might jus' bust somethin'," Jayne said. "Quit yakkin' an' do me, already."

"So romantic!" Mal curled a hand around Jayne's _diăo_, slowly stroking it from root to tip.

"Hey! In need o' some nursin', here," Jayne groused, watching Mal's hand move.

Mal laughed softly. "Ain't wearin' no nurse's outfit fer ya, no matter how nice ya ask. Might give you a sponge bath, though."

He bent down and took the head of Jayne's _diăo_ into his mouth.

Jayne groaned. He watched Mal suck him for as long as he could, until the pressure building in his groin became too much and he couldn't keep his eyes open.

Mal cupped the merc's sac and squeezed gently, moving his other hand up and down his length. With a swirl of Mal's tongue over the head and glans, Jayne came, pulsing into Mal's mouth.

"_Āiyā_, Mal! Yer good at that," Jayne said when he'd regained the power of speech.

Mal grinned. "I'm sure y'ain't so bad yerself," he said. "Lookin' forward ta ya being well enough to find out."

"C'n find out now if'n ya like," Jayne offered, pulling up his trousers.

Mal shook his head. "I c'n wait."

"C'mere," Jayne said, patting the bed beside him.

Mal kicked off his boots and crawled onto the bed. "What?"

"Here."

Mal snuggled up to Jayne, who turned his head and kissed him, tasting himself on the Captain's tongue.

"Mmm..." Jayne snaked a hand down to Mal's waistband, and before Mal realised his cunning plan, he had Mal's flies open and his hand was inside them, gripping Mal.

"Jayne..." Mal squeaked. "Ain't so sure this's such a great idea-ah!"

"Good job I am, then." Jayne kissed him again, pumping hard.

Mal's hips bucked against Jayne's fist as he moaned. He pulled back. "Jayne, 'm gonna..." He fumbled in his pocket and managed to grab a kerchief.

Jayne took it and kissed Mal again, then bit his lower lip.

With a cry, Mal came, spilling into the kerchief.

Shaking, he lay there until the door rattled, then someone rapped sharply against the frame.

"Jayne? Are you all right in there?" Simon called. "I heard... Oh." There was a pause. "Mal! If my patient pulls any stitches, anything at all, I am going to sedate you until he's better. _Dŏng ma_?"

"Loud an' clear, Doc," Mal called, and Jayne sniggered.

* * *

The day they docked back at the Bazaar, Jayne made it all the way up to the galley for breakfast.

"Jayne! Good to see your brush with death hasn't affected your table manners," Wash said, sitting down opposite the merc, who was noisily slurping a bowl of something mushy.

"Yeah, well I c'n show ya how not dead I am if ya like. I need ta check how sharp a couple o' ma knives is."

"That's almost a proposal, coming from Jayne," Simon said.

Zoë smiled. "Jayne knows better than to put proposals to my husband."

Jayne snorted. "I ain't puttin' no proposals ta that little man. Like 'em bigger."

Mal choked on his coffee.

Kaylee grinned and patted Jayne's arm. "Well I'm sure glad ta see yer mendin', Jayne. There anythin' I c'n get ya from the Bazaar? I ain't pickin' y'up any guns, mind," she cautioned.

Jayne's face fell. "Can't I come?"

Simon shook his head. "It's too crowded. I don't want you getting jostled."

"Mal!" Jayne appealed.

Mal shook his head. "I'm with the Doc on this one. He thinks it ain't a good idea, I ain't overrulin' him."

Jayne scowled. "I got things ta do!"

Mal finished up his coffee. "You c'n make a list, then, an' I'll pick up whatever it is yer after. Won't take long."

Jayne grumbled over the rest of his breakfast, then while Wash docked _Serenity_, Mal took a trip down into Jayne's bunk and fetched out an armful of his weapons.

"Here," he said, laying them out on the dining table. "Don't get everythin' covered in oil. I ain't fond o' the taste in my dinner. You get tired, you go rest in one o' the comfy chairs. An' if ya feel bad, call an' me'n' Simon'll be back as quick as."

Jayne listened, amused. "Quit fussin' Mal," he said. "Ain't gonna faint or nothin'. I been shot before, I know how it goes."

"Yeah, I know," Mal said. "But this is different."

"Why?"

"Because. It just is."

Jayne grinned. "Yer makin' it complicated again, Mal."

"Guess I am at that."

* * *

Mal dropped off the return mailbag with the Postmaster.

"Didn't have any bother, did you?" the man said.

Mal shook his head. "None to speak of."

"There was a report over the Cortex, is all. Seems a Firefly-class transport picked up a spice cargo right before the real transport showed up for it. They were pretty clear one man was badly hurt, maybe killed. Your crew all right?"

Mal looked hard at the man, trying to figure him out.

The Postmaster leaned forwards. "It's just I don't see Jayne Cobb there with you. And I thought he'd be anxious to pick up this." He slid across a cream envelope stamped with _Madame Wu's Academy - Official Results_.

"I must confess I'm curious as to how he's done. He doesn't seem the studious type, but I admire his persistance."

Mal pocketed the envelope. "Looks can be deceiving," he said with a smile. "He's a mite busy right now, but next time we're here I'm sure he'll let you know." He collected the rest of the mail and distributed it to the crew.

"You got three hours," he warned them. "Expect y'all back aboard by then.

* * *

Mal spent an hour doing some necessary shopping before hurrying back to the ship.

Jayne was still cleaning his girls. He had one of his pistols spread out across the table in pieces, laid carefully in order on a cloth. He looked up in surprise as Mal entered.

"Weren't expectin' ya back so soon," he said.

"Couldn't wait any longer," Mal confessed, and pulled the envelope from his pocket. Sliding it across the table, he waited for Jayne to open it, but the merc simply sat and stared at it.

"Ain't ya gonna open it?"

Jayne shook his head slowly. "Ain't sure."

Mal pulled out a chair and sat down. "What is it?"

Jayne looked up at Mal and sighed. "'S just... I been workin' so long fer this, an' that last course? What 'f... What if it ain't a pass, Mal?"

"That's it?" Mal asked, incredulous. "You got shot through the lung, an' you're worryin' about exam results?"

Jayne let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, guess so," he said.

Mal laughed. "Open it."

Jayne reached out and took the envelope, then slid a large finger under the flap. He pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolded it, and frowned as he sounded out the words under his breath.

"Well?" Mal asked, impatiently.

Face impassive, Jayne slid the paper across the table. Eagerly, Mal picked it up and read it.

_Dear Mr Cobb,  
__Your last essay was quite striking and made some very interesting points. I am very pleased to tell you that you achieved a mark of 38 out of 40. __You have completed fourteen modules in all, which, as you know, is enough to entitle you to graduate from the Academy.  
__If you can attend the Academy at any point within the next six months, I will be happy to confer on you your degree with first-class honours. If you are unable to attend, please let me know and I will mail you your certificate.  
__It has been a pleasure and a privilege to teach you over the past few years. Your instructional capture on rifle maintenance is still in high demand. I wish you the very best of fortune.  
__Yours,  
__Madame Wu_

Mal laid the letter down and stared at Jayne.

"What?"

The big man shifted uncomfortably in his seat and busied himself cleaning a gun piece with an oil-soaked rag, then dropped it with a sigh.

"Quit starin'!"

Mal grinned. "I guess we got us a graduation ceremony to go ta."

"What? No, Mal!" Panic flitted across Jayne's face.

"Why not? Ain't every day my _àirén_ gets a degree."

Jayne stopped panicking and stared back at Mal. "_Àirén_, huh?"

Sheepishly, Mal rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah." He smiled hopefully.

Jayne sighed. "If ya put it that way..."

"Good! That's settled then," Mal said, and got to his feet.

Jayne had a suspicion he'd been played. "Where ya goin'?"

"See if I c'n get us a job that'll take us ta Persephone. Looks like Madame Wu's Academy ain't far from Eavesdown Docks." He headed for the cockpit.

"Mal!" Jayne called him back.

"Yeah, Jayne?" Mal turned, waiting patiently.

"You gonna tell the others?" Jayne asked anxiously.

"Ain't mine ta tell. You goin' ta?"

Jayne shrugged. "Ain't sure. They're only gonna laugh anyhow. This ain't no shiny Core-world degree, Mal, not like Simon's fancy medical academy."

"No, it ain't," Mal agreed. "You ain't gone ta no classes, nor spent hours talkin' things through with yer teachers, livin' on yer pa's money. You've done it all in your own time, with nothin' more'n what they send ya for each course, while workin' hire as a mercenary, an' all the gettin' shot an' stabbed an' beat up that entails. Don't go thinkin' you've taken the easy option here, Jayne. Y'ain't. Might not have a fancy Core academy name on that letter, but that don't mean it's worth any less. In fact, 'n my opinion, it's worth a heck of a lot more.

"I'm proud o' ya, Jayne."

Speech over, Mal went to find a cargo, leaving Jayne sitting at the table staring at his letter.

"Only started it ta get better't takin' care o' my girls," he muttered, shaking his head. Slowly he folded it up and put it back into the envelope, then folded that and stuffed it into a pocket. Picking up the oily cloth again, he went back to cleaning his guns.

"Guess I'm good fer somethin' after all."

* * *

The trip to Persephone took three weeks. Mal found them a last-minute cargo of screws and washers, which wasn't paying much, but was better than nothing at all, especially as it wasn't illegal and didn't require shovelling out on a daily basis.

Simon allowed Jayne back into his own bunk. Which, on reflection, maybe wasn't such a good idea, Mal thought as he lay awake for the third night in a row. With a sigh, he climbed out of bed and out of his bunk and knocked gently on the hatch to Jayne's.

And waited.

He tapped again, slightly harder.

There was no answer.

A sudden fear gripped his chest, and he pushed open the hatch and dropped in.

"Whu-"

Still waking up, Jayne had Mal pinned against the ladder. By the throat.

"Mal! What in the ruttin' hell're ya doin'?"

Mal croaked, and Jayne let him go.

"Not that I ain't glad ta see ya, but couldn't ya've knocked or somethin'? Could'a been a knife."

Mal rubbed at his throat.

"I did knock. Weren't no answer. Thought mayhap you was ill."

Jayne snorted. "Naw, just sleepin'. An' come ta think on it, why ain't ya sleepin' yer own self?" He sat down on his bunk and rubbed his chest.

Mal ran his fingers through his hair. "Couldn't sleep," he confessed. "I was wonderin' if mayhap..."

Jayne smiled. "'Bout time, too. Quit yappin' an' lie down."

"Yessir, Cap'n Jayne, sir," Mal quipped, and lay down beside his merc.

"_Bìzŭi_, or ya c'n go back ta yer own bunk," Jayne said sleepily. He wrapped an arm around Mal's waist and pulled him close. Mal could have sworn he felt Jayne's lips brush against his hair.

"Night," he said, quietly.

"Mph," Jayne grunted, and together they fell asleep.

A couple of nights later, Mal stopped Jayne as the merc was headed for his bunk.

"Look, Jayne... 'Bout this sleepin' arrangement..." he began, uncomfortably.

"Can't sleep on yer own?" Jayne asked.

"Well, no," Mal said. "But-"

"Then yer sleepin' with me," he said, simply. "Yer bunk's bigger. Be right there."

Zoë, passing by, said, "Man has a point, sir."

* * *

The crew, for the most part, seemed unconcerned with the change in sleeping arrangements. Alone in the cargo bay one afternoon, Mal sounded Zoë out about it.

"How're the crew takin' it? Me'n' Jayne, that is." He was anxious. "I made it pretty clear I don't hold with shipboard romances causin' complications."

Zoë smiled. "There are comments. Mostly when neither of you are around. And mostly Kaylee talkin' on how cute you are as a couple. Sir."

"Cute? I ain't cute!" Mal protested.

"Even so, sir. Never claimed to understand everythin' Kaylee finds cute."

"Hmph." Mal was only slightly mollified.

"As for the rest, I believe mostly folks are relieved that Jayne's on the mend and you've stopped sniping at him."

Mal opened his mouth to protest that too, then grinned ruefully. "Guess I was, at that. I was a real _hóuzi de pìgu_, wasn't I?"

"Yes sir." She paused.

"That it?" Mal asked.

"I'm glad to see you happy, sir. That's all."

He flashed her a quick smile. "Thanks, Zo'. You know, now I think on it, I reckon I owe the man an apology. Gonna go give it to him. 'Less'n there's an emergency, we ain't ta be disturbed." Whistling cheerily, he bounded up the stairs in search of Jayne.

Zoë shook her head, smiling. "Don't think I'll ever fully understand that man."

* * *

Mal found Jayne in the galley. The merc was once more sitting at the table with Mal's book of poems. This time, though, it was the Sonnets.

He looked up when the Captain came in. "Hey, Mal. How's our cargo?"

"Still sittin' in crates lookin' like metal," Mal said with a smile. "You busy?"

Jayne shrugged. "Keep tryin' ta figure these out, an' I think I'm gettin' there, but it's harder work than humpin' them crates five miles without a mule."

"Come with me, then," Mal grinned and held out a hand.

Curious, the merc stood up and took it. "What're ya thinkin'?"

Mal led him to his bunk and opened the hatch. "I'm thinkin' I need to apologize for being a _húndàn_. Before. Weren't my finest behaviour."

He climbed down the ladder. "You comin'?" he called up.

Jayne followed him down into the bunk. "Ya were a real jackass," he said, and pulled the hatch shut.

Mal locked it. "Yeah, I was. Couldn't stop lookin' at ya, wantin' ya. Thought I was goin' out of my mind." He reached out a hand and laid it gently on Jayne's chest.

"Yeah, well, we all done things we ain't proud of," Jayne said gruffly. "So, ya gonna apologize, then?"

"Reckon so."

Mal pushed his suspenders off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. When Jayne made to pull of his t-shirt, Mal shook his head.

"I ain't apologized yet," he said, and continued undressing.

Jayne watched as the Captain dropped his shirt on the floor, unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall. Kicking them off along with his boots, Mal swiftly shed his underpants and socks and, naked, stood in front of Jayne.

The merc grinned. "Ain't gonna get tired o' lookin' ya, Mal."

Mal grinned back, and pulled Jayne's head down to his. He kissed him lightly, then more deeply, trying to put all his feelings into the kiss.

When they broke for air, Jayne was gasping. "Hell 'f 'n apology!"

"That weren't my apology," Mal said, pulling Jayne to him again. He slid his hands under Jayne's t-shirt, running his palms across the smooth muscles of Jayne's back. Jayne wrapped one large arm around Mal's shoulders. The other hand drifted down Mal's side, ghosting over old scars until it reached his hip and rested there.

Lips brushed together, teased, pressed together. Tongues slid in and out of mouths, and when they parted again it wasn't only Jayne who was having trouble with his breathing.

"Can't wait," Jayne said huskily, enjoying the feel of Mal's naked body pressing against him.

Mal smiled against Jayne's neck, then sucked lightly on the sensitive skin there. He blew across it, and Jayne shivered. Mal picked another spot, sucking and blowing his way down Jayne's neck. By the time he reached the hollow at the base of the tall man's neck, Jayne's head was lolling back against the rungs of the ladder.

"Gorramn..." Jayne groaned. "Mal..."

Laughter dancing in his eyes, Mal looked up, and Jayne found his breath being taken away all over again.

"Mal..."

"You gonna wear out my name, or 'r' ya gonna tell me what it is ya want?" Mal slid his hands round to Jayne's front, gliding them carefully up his ribs and over the small dressing which was all that covered his mostly-healed wound. Jayne opened his mouth to reply, but Mal's fingers found his nipples, and all he could manage was another groan.

After a while more kissing and stroking Jayne's nipples, Mal thoughtfully stopped so Jayne could answer.

"Guh..."

"Tell me," Mal ordered.

Jayne looked at the _shuài_ figure in front of him. Near on as tall as him, with eyes that he knew had seen more'n anyone should, and a soul that still showed through them, battered though it was -

"You," Jayne rasped.

"_Shénme_?"

The merc cleared his throat. "I want you, Mal. All o' ya. Not just this afternoon, neither. For 's long 's."

Mal stared at Jayne. He hadn't thought to push Jayne to any kind of declaration, just a long afternoon of really good sexin'. He didn't see himself as being a man for commitment, leastways not to anything more than his ship and his crew. And this? This was surely a huge complication, right there.

But it didn't feel like one.

He swallowed hard.

"'Kay." Tentatively he smiled, and Jayne smiled back.

"Shiny!"

Quickly, Jayne pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on top of Mal's discarded clothes. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his trousers.

"I was goin' ta..." Mal protested, but Jayne's grin widened.

"Too slow." He stepped forwards and grabbed Mal's ass, pulling them groin to groin. He rolled his hips a little, and at the feel of their _diăos_ rubbing together, Mal hissed.

Mal took a shaky breath and stepped back. "Come here, then," he said, holding out his hand to Jayne. The merc took it and followed him to the bed. Mal tugged him down onto the bed, then set about kissing him from his lips all the way down to his _diăo_.

When he reached there, Jayne threaded his fingers through Mal's hair and tugged gently. When Mal looked up, Jayne explained, "It ain't that I don't love that, but I ain't gonna last long if'n ya do."

"Really?" Mal said, grinning wolfishly. "Then it's a good job I got ideas for other things we c'n do."

"Oh yeah," Jayne breathed. He watched as Mal crossed to the desk and opened a drawer. He fished around inside, then returned with a small jar.

"That what I think it is?" he asked, voice thick with lust.

"Depends if ya think it's lube," Mal replied, and opened the jar. He scooped out a dollop and closed his hand around Jayne's _diăo_ again.

"Cold!" Jayne gasped, and shivered at the feel of Mal's hand as it slid up and down his hard length until he was covered in lube. Then Mal scooped out another, smaller gob and reached behind him.

"Let me," Jayne said, and tugged Mal forwards.

He took the jar, got a fingerful of lube and gently rubbed between Mal's cheeks. He found the dimple and circled his finger round it. Mal moaned at the sensation. When Jayne pushed against it, he moved himself back. For a moment the pressure was too much, then Jayne's finger slid inside and Mal gasped. He stilled as Jayne carefully worked his finger further inside.

Then Jayne crooked his finger and touched a spot which had Mal seeing lights behind his eyes.

"_Lăotiān_, Jayne!" he muttered, moving back against the merc's hand.

"Hit the spot, huh?" Jayne said smugly.

"Yeah - ohhhhh, yeah!"

Jayne pulled out slowly and coated his fingers with more lube. He pushed in again, then added a second finger.

Mal would have told him how good it felt, but he rather suspected he was only capable of dribbling incoherence. He contented himself with a wide vocabulary of moans and groans.

At last, Jayne pulled his hand out and pushed Mal's hips down.

Mal reached down and took hold of the merc's _diăo_, guiding it between his legs until it nudged at his opening. Slowly, with Jayne's hands gripping his hips, he eased himself down, pausing until the burn settled.

"_Qīngwā cào de liúmáng_! Yer tight!" Jayne gasped.

Mal grinned, and moved his hips.

Jayne managed a "Guuh..." his hands tightening on Mal's hips.

Mal started moving up and down slowly. Jayne trembled with the effort of not thrusting up into him, but Mal leaned forwards and pushed back harder, then harder again.

"_Cào_!" Jayne's control snapped, and his hips surged upwards, nearly lifting Mal off the bed.

Mal reached down and gripped his own _diăo_, thrusting into his hand in time with Jayne's thrusts into him. The merc hit that sweet spot again, and again. And with a loud cry, Mal came, spilling over his hand and onto Jayne's stomach. His muscles contracted around the merc, and with a bellow Jayne came too, pulsing into Mal.

For a long moment they were still, panting, hearts slowing. Then with a groan, Mal moved off Jayne and collapsed onto the bed beside him.

When he had regained a little control over his body, Jayne fumbled across the bed and took Mal's hand.

"'pology accepted."

* * *

"Landing in five," Wash called over the intercom. Mal hurried up to the cockpit. Eavesdown Docks rushed up to meet them.

"I'm assumin' we have clearance to dock," he said, "otherwise we're bein' a mite eager."

"All good, sir," Zoë said from the co-pilot's chair. "Contact's meetin' us in an hour."

Mal nodded. "You 'n' Wash okay to deal with that? Got another appointment."

Concentrating on the controls, Wash murmured, "Simon can't clear up that rash?"

Mal glared at the pilot. "Ain't that kind o' appointment!"

"Sorry, sorry. Don't hit me or we'll crash and die," Wash said, and seconds later they settled onto the landing pad.

"Ain't flyin' now," Mal warned.

"It just slipped out," Wash protested. Then added, "Nope, not going there either. Wife. We taking care of cargo, then?"

"Looks like we are, husband. You need me to join you later, sir?"

"No, no need. Got Jayne ta watch my back."

Wash spluttered and turned red with the effort of holding his tongue.

"In that case, I think I'll take my husband and go see to our cargo before he chokes."

"Jayne! You ready?" Mal called down into Jayne's bunk.

"Nope," Jayne said morosely. "Then again, ain't never gonna be ready fer this." He stepped into view at the bottom of the ladder wearing a shirt and his best pair of cargo pants. His gun belt was polished, and his gun gleamed.

"Look fine ta me. Come on, or we're gonna be late." Mal tugged at the neck of his own shirt, unused to it being done all the way up. And with a necktie tied all the way around it.

Together they headed through Serenity and down the cargo bay. As they left, Mal called over his shoulder.

"Kaylee! No passengers! Not 'less they ain't Feds! Nor Alliance spies!"

"Gotcha, Cap'n," Kaylee called back, hurrying into the cargo bay. Close behind her came Simon and River.

"Are you sure about this, Kaylee?" Simon said. "It's a little... far-fetched."

"Where else'd they be sneakin' off ta, all gussied up like that?" Kaylee asked.

"But... eloping?"

"C'mon!"

River hung back. "I will stay with _Serenity_. She also requires company."

"_Mèi mei_, are you sure you'll be all right here on your own?" Simon asked anxiously.

"I'm sure. We will be all tight and secure and safe until your return." River nodded. She waited until they reached the end of the ramp, then pushed the button to close up the ship.

* * *

Mal and Jayne strolled through the docks, walking close together, shoulders almost touching.

"You ever been there?" Mal asked, glancing at Jayne.

"Nope."

"Not all the times you've passed through Eavesdown Docks?"

"Nope. Ain't seen the point."

"She wrote you letters," Mal said.

"Yeah. Nice 'f her." Jayne scanned the crowds around them, tension showing in the set of his shoulders.

They turned down a narrow street. It was still busy, but not quite as crowded. Mal scanned the signs by the doors as they walked along.

"There. That's it," Mal said, nodding towards a shabby blue-painted door set back from the street. They stopped in front of it, and Mal knocked.

The door swung open, although Mal couldn't see anyone inside. Shrugging, he stepped through the doorway.

Several doors down, Kaylee and Simon scurried forwards and stopped in front of the same blue door.

"What the..." Simon read the sign beside it. "_Madame Wu's Academy_."

Kaylee frowned. "I seen her advertisements in the back o' magazines. She does courses on engine maintenance and suchlike. I thought about doin' one, but I never got round ta it." She turned to Simon. "What d'ya think they're doin' in there?"

"Does she also offer courses in insane marriages?" Simon asked drily.

Kaylee shrugged, and tried the handle. The door opened. She went inside, and Simon followed.

Across the street, Zoë laid her hand on Wash's arm. "I do believe that was Simon sneaking around," she said.

"Are you certain?" Wash asked, surprised.

"It's Simon." Zoë said flatly.

"Right. He's worse at sneaking than I am. Shall we go see what he's up to, wife who is very good at sneaking?"

"I reckon so," Zoë said, and walked across to the blue door, not sneaking at all.

* * *

Inside, a dingy corridor led back through the building to a staircase.

"Guess it's upstairs," Mal said. "After you."

"Makin' sure I don't run off, huh?" Jayne grinned nervously.

"Yup. That, an' I c'n watch your butt from here." Mal slapped him on the back, and Jayne walked slowly up the stairs.

Mal took the opportunity to watch his merc's ass until they reached the top. The stairs opened out into a large airy office. At the far end was a very large desk, and behind it was a very small woman.

She came out from around the desk and opened her arms. "Jayne Cobb!" she crowed. "So happy to meet you!"

Blushing furiously, Jayne went forward to meet her. Awkwardly he held out a hand. "Uh... Pleased to meet ya too, Madame Wu."

She beamed and tugged him down until she could kiss him on both cheeks. Round cheeks framing a large smile, she turned to Mal.

"And you are his Captain, yes?"

"Pleasure to meet ya, ma'am." Mal let her pull him into an embrace too.

"I am so glad you bring my star pupil to me!" Madame Wu exclaimed. "Tea?"

"Uh..."

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Madame Wu brought out a large tray with a teapot and seven cups. Hurriedly, Jayne took it from her and set it down on the low table in the middle of the room.

Mal looked at the tray, then at Madame Wu, who beamed at him. "Pour, please." Mal poured tea into three cups.

Madame Wu stared at him, her smile disappearing. Mal picked up the teapot once more and slowly poured tea into another cup. The smile returned. Mal kept on pouring until all the cups were full.

There was a creak on the stairs. Jayne whirled round, hand going to his gun.

"Kaylee! What'n the... What're ya doin' here?"

Kaylee hurried up the last few stairs, followed by Simon. "Don't be mad! We couldn't let ya do this without us!"

Confused, Jayne looked at Mal. "Thought ya weren't gonna say nothin'?"

"I didn't!"

Zoë strolled up the stairs with Wash behind her. "Cap'n. Jayne. Madame Wu?"

Madam Wu beamed. "Sit, please."

When everyone was seated around the table with a cup of tea, Madame Wu returned to her desk and collected a file.

"Thank you for coming here to celebrate the achievement of your friend Jayne Cobb."

All eyes turned to Jayne. He blushed crimson and looked down at the table.

"Jayne has been my number one pupil for the past four years. Over all he has one of the highest marks I have ever awarded in thirty years of teaching. Thank you for allowing me to be your teacher, Jayne Cobb." She bowed.

Blushing, Jayne bowed awkwardly back to her. "Uh... Thanks fer bein' my teacher, I guess," he muttered. When it seemed he should say more, he added, "Ain't learned that much from nobody else."

The beam was back. Madame Wu advanced on the table and presented Jayne with the file.

"This is a copy of all your hard work. I am very pleased to present you with this certificate for your literature module." She handed Jayne a certificate like the ones he had on his wall.

"And it gives me even greater pleasure to present you with this degree certificate, awarded with first class honours." She handed Jayne a scroll with a holographic seal affixed to the ribbon.

"Thank you for bringing your family here for this auspicious occasion. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours."

Jayne took the scroll and shook her hand. "Thanks, Madame Wu. Means a lot." He risked a look at his 'family'. Mal was smiling almost as proudly as Madame Wu. Everyone else was staring at him in varying degrees of astonishment.

"What?" he said. "Ain't never seen a degree ceremony before?"

Back on _Serenity_ River watched the feed on the console and laughed. "Top one percent," she crowed. "Top one percent!"

**

* * *

**

**Translations:**

_Kào_! - Goddamit!  
_húndàn_ - bastard  
_Lăotiān_ - My god  
_shuài_ - handsome  
_gŏu cào de lèsè_ - dog-humping rubbish  
_gŏushĭ_ - crap  
_Wŏ de mā_ - Mother of God  
_mèi mei_ - little sister  
_dŏng ma?_ - understand?  
_Āiyā! Tiān a!_ - Merciless hells!  
_Mă shàng!_ - Now!  
_pìgu_ - behind  
_fēngle_ - loopy in the head  
_Hóuzi de pìgu_! - Baboon's arse  
_Dàxiàng bàozhàshì de lā dùzi_! - the explosive diarrhoea of an elephant!  
_tiān xiăodé_ - in the name of all that's holy  
_Wŏ zài qiănshì yīdìng rědào shénme rén le ba_ - I surely annoyed someone in a past life  
_Wu tou wu nao_ - mixed up  
_Liú kŏushŭi de biăozi hé hóuzi de bèn érzi!_ - Stupid son of a drooling whore and a monkey.  
_Tā mā de_ - Shit  
_diăo_ - penis  
_bìzŭi_ - shut up  
_Wŏ de mā hé tā de fēnkuáng de wàisheng dōu_ - Holy Mother of God and all her wacky nephews  
_Shénme_ - excuse me  
_Xiè xie_ - thank you  
_àirén_ - lover  
_Qīngwā cào de liúmáng_ - Frog-humping sonofabitch  
_Cào_ - fuck

_Quotations taken from __'Naming of Parts', by Henry Reed__, __'What The Bullet Sang', by Bret Harte__, __Sonnets III__ and __XX__, by William Shakespeare and __'At The Mid Hour Of Night', by Thomas Moore__._


End file.
